Blood Lust: The Symphony's Coda
by Vestque the Artist
Summary: The Beginning of the End is finally here! These are the last few chapter of the Saga that is Blood Lust. How will it all end? Read and find out...(Four Chapters down, One More To Go)
1. Chapter One

Alright. Welcome to the Beginning of the end! Enjoy.

Disclaimer:…yadda yadda yadda, Donatello is one sexy little turtle…

Chapter One

Boots echoed off of the cold stone as the red-haired young man strutted into the dark room. The chains adoring his legs rattled loudly as he walked, the rattles slowing and then ceasing as he slowed to a stop in the middle of the room. A pasty white hand ran through scarlet-red hair as he sighed, preparing for what he knew he had to do. Casting away his self worth and immense pride, he kneeled in humility for the being that he knew was before him. Face to the ground, he spoke, his voice seemingly booming as it bounced off of the floor only inches below him nose.

'You've summoned for me, Master.'

It was not meant to be a question, but nevertheless, the being still responded as such.

'Yes my follower…'

The red haired youth waited in his kneel for the demonic master to continue, and as it was, he did not have to wait long. Talons tapped against the stone floor as the heavy footsteps of the demon underlord echoing loudly in the cold, dark room. However, the youth knew that if he looked up, he would have still seen nothing.

Drakoc still was not physical enough to be seen in this world.

But he was still there.

'The meeting shall be held tonight, will it not?'

His voice was the sound of all damnation, evil in it's purest form. It would have cut through the youth like a knife, that is, if the youth's own evilness wasn't so close behind. Instead, the youth nodded, his face never leaving the ground before him.

'**Yes, my Lord.'**

The noises stopped, ending just before the bowed figure. The youth listened, the demon's hot stench of a breath just on his neck as it bent over him. He remained still as the demon seemed to sniff him for one purpose or the other before speaking once more, his voice no louder than a fiendish whisper.

'Then let it commence as you say. Spread my forthcoming, and bring me followers. Then and only then can I be released into this world. But if you fail me…'

The youth froze as a hot breath was released on his back of his neck, not enough to scorch, but enough to leave his skin blistered. And almost as quickly as it had occurred it went away, the vampire blood within him healing him almost instantly.

Above him the demon began to laugh, his horrific chuckles resonating off of the walls like the moans of a million damned souls.

'Do not fail me, servant. Do not!' The youth could still hear the smile on his voice as he continued, '**Or your own suffering will be inevitable…'**

The youth fell lower to the ground in reverence, his nose cold from the frigidness of the stone it touched.

'**Yes, My lord.'**

A single chuckle seemed to resonate against the walls once more before dying away altogether. The heavy and satanic spirit before him disappeared back to the regions of the netherworld, and in response, the youth waited several moments after the demon's departure before even thinking of sitting up from his kneel. He had his orders, and as such, he could complete the night as planned.

Tonight he would find recruits. Together they would form an army, finally able to overthrow the sovereignty _that was **AVTech**._

And as it was, he knew that the vampires (especially this crowd of vampires) would be **more **than willing to join their ranks...

Trevor smiled.

After tonight, the gears of events would be unstoppable, their true ambitions finally able come out as the whirlwind of evil ran ramped through this world.

Drakoc's coming was so soon, he could smell it.

And God save this world when he did.

* * *

Owen breathed in the scent of blood and sweat as the girl in his grasp leaned against him for support. Slowing his ministrations to a stop, he held her there, not really sure if she could balance on her own but not wanting to risk having her just fall to the ground. After what seemed like eons, but what he knew to be only a few minutes, the girl finally stood on her own two feet. Moaning weakly, she looked up and into the black eyes of her captor, and in response, he looked back down at her with the sincerest remorse.

****

"Go home. Your father is missing you." He stated simply, his lips never moving as he spoke into her mind. She blinked then, as if seeing him for the first time before staggering backwards and away from the tall figure. Owen watched her go, he himself never moving from her unwavering gaze until she found her way out of the dark alley. Then and only then did she let her eyes leave him, turning instead to run, her footsteps rapid against the gray concrete.

Owen listened to their echoes until their was no more. Finally, when he heard her no more of her or her footsteps, he pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on, his lips barely moving as he shook his head at her former transgressions.

"Runaways…"

Stepping out of the alley himself, Owen breathed in the fresh air, the crisp September air nipping at his bare arms as he slowly and leisurely crossed the street. He felt naked against the cold and against the world, his coat being left and discarded on his chair in the lair. At first, and without thinking, he had picked it up as well to head out in, but with the turtle's chiding almost immediately thereafter, he dropped the coat, leaving it behind.

And for good reason.

That coat was Owen, and tonight he was not Owen anymore…

'That still doesn't mean it's not bloody cold…' He thought miserably. Nevertheless, he still walked, the September winds blowing at his now, short hair.

The two strands in front brushed against his face in a dance of apprehension.

Tonight was the night…

Tonight was the night that he would finally find out what _exactly _is going on. Thus, it was the night that he had been waiting for…

Looking up, Owen put on his toughest face before sticking his hands in his pockets and pulling out a single stick of gum. Owen was never very fond of the sweet gummy substance, but then again…

Tonight, he was not Owen, was he…

He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing uncaringly before sticking his hands back into his large pockets like the rebel he was becoming.

He eyed the old sign above him, the dingy green of the letters blending in almost perfectly with the dark smut around it.

'_Miller's Inn'_

If he remembered correctly, this place had been out-of-business for at least forty years now, him being there to see it come and go. Now it stood abandoned, falling apart, and boarded up. Never meant to be used again…

However, tonight, that would not be the case.

Owen stepped forward and into the beam of the nearby street light. Before him stood the boarded up entrance way, formally pried open by one person or the other, and tagged…

"_Vampires Enter Here"_

A red arrow pointed to the entrance way, it being one of the many other random pieces of graffiti on the board as well. Thus, it proved rather ingenious. The fact that there being vampires was so un-believed it made the very obvious and true note…unbelievable. Meaning, it would have been looked at as random, babble of nonsense by all, except for those that knew what to look for, and what exactly it meant.

Owen stepped into the dark entry way, having to step over the high boards as well as duck under the low boards in order to get in. But once in, he was not disappointed.

"Vampires This Way"

Owen followed the florescent arrow, it being the only color, hence, obvious thing in the old, dark and dank room. Finding himself in an abandoned hallway, he could only guess that this hallway lead to the rooms of the old inn, the pictures on the walls telling the tale. People smiling, laughing as if portraying the happiness that would come with just spending one night in the place. Now that story was old, worn and untold as the pictures lay in at least forty years of dust and debris making them seem rather spooky in comparison. Owen walked past those pictures, barely sparing a glance in their direction and instead followed the hallway all the way down, only to come to a dead end.

'That's odd…'

Hesitantly, Owen began to examine the boarded off passage way in front of him. His hands slid from crevice to crevice looking for something, anything, to hint it's open way.

He frowned.

Nothing.

"Well, what now?"

He backed away from the wall, not at all certain as to what he should do now.

'Maybe I made a wrong turn somewhere…'

'Wrong turn? You only made two, and both of them were directed.'

Owen sighed, there was no possible way he could have made a wrong turn, but he still found himself at a dead end. However, just as he was beginning to contemplate backtracking, he spotted something. On the wall adjacent to the boarded wall was a small note, barely visible, but it was there.

"Push Me"

Owen frowned. Was this what he was looking for? Well, having nothing to lose, he brought up a single hand and pressed lightly, and then heavily on the spot in the wall. Almost with no fight whatsoever, the spot gave way, a door way opening from the formally secure wall. Owen almost smiled at it's ingenuity. However, that smile did not last long.

As soon as the stepped through the open door, it closed right behind him, leaving him in pitch blackness.

But not for long…

There was a flash of light before it went dark again. But it was enough for Owen to know his fate. In those microsecond of sight Owen was able to see the contents of the room, but not before spotting the air-born barbed arrow.

Of which, now came straight for his head!

* * *

Donatello sighed from his spot on the roof top, the chilly wind playing with his bandana tails as he looked over the roof's edge. Owen had disappeared into that said building nearly a minute ago, and now he sat in watch.

But he was not the only one.

"_Donny? Donny! Anything yet?"_

Donny held the modified turtle-com to his mouth, his lips barely moving as he responded.

"No nothing yet, Raph. I think it's time to move on to Phase II."

The telecommunication device found his belt once again as he resumed scanning the ground below him for anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, and almost as an afterthought, the device buzzed as the others responded accordingly.

"Alright, Donny-boy."

"Rodger that Donny."

"Okie, Dokie Artichoke-ie!"

There were three gusts of wind, three shadows in the darkness of the rooftop as the three brothers moved from their respective spots of espionage to join their now placid brother.

Donatello, however, did not move from his perch as the shadows hummed behind him. Instead, he only settled for sitting cross-legged on the stone ground as he removed his turtle-com from his belt for the umpteenth time that night.

"Donny?" Leo stepped forward.

"Shh!"

Donatello furrowed his brows in concentration as he worked the device, a series of beeps admitting from the small machine as if it were a toy. Raph, and then Michelangelo, removed themselves from the shadows as well, joining their older brother in peering over Donatello's shoulder as he worked.

Patiently, they all waited, not really sure as to what Don was up to, but having confidence in him all the same. And as usual, their confidence was not misplaced.

It was only a matter of seconds…

"Yes!" He whispered into the air as he finally held up the completed program, a rather wide grin spreading over his wide green face. "I….am a genius."

At his self-proclamation the rest of the turtles ignored him, rather used to his 'antics' as they leaned closer. Faintly, but still loud enough to be heard, the sounds of light breathing flowed from the green com in Don's grasp.

And in response, there was a heavy silence as they all listened.

That is until it was finally interrupted by none other than the ultimate interrupter-er himself…Michelangelo.

"Um,…this is all interesting and all, but um…what, exactly, _is _that?"

Michelangelo scratched his head, perplexed as the others seemed to nod in agreement. They were just as clueless, making Donatello huff at their ignorance, but he clarified his device's readings nonetheless.

"It's Owen." He stated, a small smile spreading on his beak. "I placed a small but powerful microphone in his clothing. _So_ small and _so _well concealed, in fact, that it's barely even noticeable! And thanks to you guys, he has no idea!" Donatello grinned in pride of his new invention. Meanwhile, the turtles around him soaked in the new bit of information. It wasn't as if they were completely unaware of the plans, all of them having some part in it with the preparation of Owen, but just the small details they were ignorant of, some more informed than others. Well, at least that was the case until now…

"So, everything that's goin' on in there, we can hear from out here and through your Turtle-com." Raph stated, rather than asked, a small grin growing on his beak as well. And in response, Donatello nodded, his own grin growing wider with the understanding of his brothers.

However, Michelangelo still seemed rather clueless, and it showed, his own furrowed eye-ridges and relative silence speaking volumes for his understanding.

"So…that's Owen. And…he's in there. And…even though he's in there, we're hearing him out here…"He summarized, taking in each part step by step before grinning as well. "Too cool!"

Raph nodded, voicing his praises for the purple-wearing-brain-child as well. "Yeah, good work, Donny!"

Donatello beamed inwardly suddenly growing bashful at all of the praises he was receiving. And in response to the sudden turn of events, he began to babble, not being completely used to such attention or acclaim.

"W-well, it was Leo's idea. See, he was really the mastermind. Heck, I just put it together…Not very hard, really-"

Donny's babbling was cut short, however, as he was suddenly interrupted by a quiet exclamation from his brother in blue.

"He's talking." Leo hissed. Instantly, Donatello fell silent as he and his brothers listened intently to the com in his hands. And just as Leonardo warned, as soon as he had quieted, Owen's deep but quiet voice flowed from the green gadget as he talked to himself.

"Well, what now?"

Each of the turtles waited patiently as a silence followed, only to be replaced by the slide of wall against wall.

"A trap door?" Michelangelo asked. His brothers shrugged at his inquiry, but stayed silent in hopes of not missing whatever little sounds that came from Owen's surroundings or Owen himself.

And like always, they did not have to wait long.

Suddenly, there was a "_phiff" _as something rush though the air Owen was in. At the sound all four of the turtles' stiffened, recognizing the sound almost immediate. Fighting for almost all of the years of their lives opened them up to the experience of fighting against every weapon imaginable.

Arrows being one of them…

"But why would someone be shooting at him? I thought he was going to be one of the-"

"Shut up, Mikey!" Raph snarled, also apprehensive over the entire thing, but not one to voice his feelings out loud. Donatello and Leonardo also seemed rather uneasy, their training telling them that Owen was under attack, but their common sense telling them that he wasn't. However, Owen's next words seemed to clear everything up once and for all, willing the turtles back from their panic.

"A test…It was only a test."

* * *

"A test…It was only a test." He whispered to himself, more to calm his nerves than anything else. In his hands he held the arrow, barbed and ribbed, of which, only seconds earlier had been poised to kill. Now it lay in his palms, motionless and just as harmless.

Owen blinked as the lights flickered on, showing the complete room and all that he had missed earlier. On the other end of this hallway lay a crossbow, it being the source of the former attack. But that was not what caught Owen's attention first.

It seemed that the arrow's attack was only a test of sorts, a test that only the good or the best fighters cold pass. Evade the arrow, and live to continue. But fail the test, and you lose your life as well. Around him lay several corpuses, all of which with an arrow straight through the cranium. They all came to the test and failed, falling prey to the arrow. Owen knelt down, and out of pure curiosity, he examined the corpses carefully…

Just as he thought.

Human.

They were all human.

This was a test, a test of mortality. If the person entering were what they said they were, even if the arrow had hit them, it wouldn't have done much damage for all the vampire had to do was rip it out and continue on his way.

However, humans were not so lucky…

It seemed that a few straggles had followed the signs in hopes of finding a good time in being somewhere they were not supposed to, but found death instead. On the ground their corpses lay, kids mostly, a hole through their head as well as their throats slashed and their blood drained.

Now those were definitely the works of vampires. Possibly passerby-ers who came not to long after their deaths while the blood was still good.

And feasted for the night…

Leaving their pale, purple-lipped corpses behind; bloodless, and not a drop remaining.

Owen soaked in the scene silently. On the inside, he felt remorse for the human punks, as well as anger, but knowing who he was and who he needed to be, on the outside his face was as cold as frigid ice.

They could be watching, so even here, keeping up appearance was a must.

Owen stood then, absently smoothing out his black pants as he did. With a flick of his hair, he wafted the hair away from his eyes as he coldly side-stepped the courses. Nosily smacking his gum, he walked down the long corroder, the chain and pendent around his neck rustling lightly as he made way down and to the next message.

'The true go here'

Dropping the arrow, he spared a stray glance over to the crossbow, noticing that it had already been automatically reset with a new dagger of destruction.

How sadistic, but that was what these people were known for.

The best he could do now was continue, and find out as much as he could…so he could take this operation down from the inside out.

Straighten his cloths and jewelry as well as his hair, he went full blown 'punk' mode, uncaringly chewing at the now flavorless gum in his mouth as he strutted down the last and final corridor.

This was it. This was what he had been waiting for.

'Enter'

A 'pop' escaped him as he blew a small bubble before pushing open the heavy wooden door…

Only to be spewed out and right in the middle of the enemy.

Around him, people conversed among themselves, a bar having been set up to accommodate the numbers that were supposed to appear tonight. The people buzzed, each one of them talking of the events that were supposed to occur that night. However, and unlike the rest of the people there, conversing was the farthest thing from his mind. At that moment his thoughts seemed to revolve around one single idea…

He was here, and he was completely incognito, with no one the wiser…

So far, everything was going exactly as planned.

Owen smirked.

And he would have had it no other way.

* * *

Centrice sighed from her spot on the old but comfy couch. This is _not _what she had in mind for their night of adventure, but it was here that they had left her, _despite _her protests. She had nearly killed Donny when he said she would not be joining them that night. And it took all of her will power, (and a little of his) for her to keep from doing it, him physically grabbing her wrists as she finally lashed out at him in anger. She had wanted to scope out Owen's sting operation as well and probably even _more_ than they did.

But between Donny's calm reassurance and Mikey's bouncing optimism, she was stuck here.

At home.

Alone.

With nothing to do, and nothing but anticipation for what was happening elsewhere. That had been over twenty minutes ago, but that didn't mean she couldn't still protest…

"This blows!"

If she was a kid, she would have thrown a temper tantrum, completely trashing the room she was in until the mess was equal or more than equivalent to her remaining anger.

However, she was not a kid…but that didn't mean she still couldn't throw a tantrum…

With a giant huff, she kicked out and at the piece of furniture before her, sending that corner of the coffee table skidding towards the television in fury.

"This Sucks!!!" She exclaimed, leaning back while crossing her arms in a huff. It was just _soo_ unfair!

****

'You're acting like a child…' He mind chided her. And it was true, she was acting like a spoiled child. A spoiled brat that could not get her way…

'Well, if they didn't treat me like a child, I wouldn't have to act like one!'

She justified her actions, kicking at the other side of the table which, to her ironic demise, sent it completely out of her reach. Still, she didn't give up.

Lashing out with her legs, she kicked after the coffee table, but each time her sneaker-ed feet found nothing but air. Still she did not get up, staying planted rather stubbornly in her spot, but still kicking at the table regardless.

However, after a while, and after a few more stray kicks, she relaxed, huffing as she gave up. Her body now slouched in the couch, she pouted.

Until a slight ringing fell unto her ears.

"Huh?" She sat up then, her bad mood forgotten as she looked around for the ringing's source. She finally found it, the ringing originating from the kitchen and from a single, abandoned, turtle-com, left behind and forgotten on the old wooden table.

Hesitantly, she picked it up, eyeing it as it rang again. Well, what did she have to loose?…

After one more annoying noise of a ring, she did the most logical thing, and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Centrice?"

It was Donny.

"Hey, are you ok now?"

Tons of questions ran through her head, but she held off on asking them. Oh, she would ask them, but not until she had thoroughly and to her desire, given Donatello hell…

"Oh, I couldn't be better! What a great night at home, _alone_!" She forced, sarcasm dripping off the very letters in her speech. And in response, Don all but took it as such.

"You're still mad." Not a question but a rather dry, obvious statement.

She was furious.

"Of _course _I'm still mad!" She fumed, throwing her free hand to the air in emphasis. Not like he could see it or anything, but it was done regardless and with emotion. From the other side of the line, Donatello rolled his eyes.

"Centrice, we've been through this before! It's to-"

"It's too dangerous, and it is not safe for me to be out like this, _Especially _with this sort of operation!"

Donatello grimaced as she imitated his voice to the tee.

"You're acting childish." He chided.

"Well, you started it!" She countered.

Donatello sighed, literally having had enough. If she could not just accept the fact that he kept her home because he did not want to see any harm come to her, then that was fine.

But right now, he didn't have the time to argue.

However, Centrice must have immediately sensed his sudden change of mood either from the pause in his voice, or from the sigh on his breath, for she quickly and suddenly changed subjects.

"How's Owen?" She asked, her voice going from that of royally pissed to royally interested, leaving Donatello blinking in it's wake.

If that wasn't sudden, he didn't know what was.

"He's…fine." He stuttered, not really knowing how to react to the sudden but seemingly positive change in her demeanor. However, that seemed to be the right answer, for she continued just the same.

"Well, that's good. I was pretty worried about the guy since I was _kept from being there!!!" _She blew up.

However, this time, and for once, Donatello was not too far behind.

"_Centrice**, I Am Sorry!!" **_Don exploded then as well, his arms waving in emphasis as he continued. _"Well, God forbid I am actually worried about you getting hurt! Geez, Centrice! Man, what do you think?! That I wanted to lock you up, leave you there by yourself, at that, just because I wanted to "keep you out of it?!" Well, I'm sorry, but that's just not the case! We all are in very grave danger just being here, damnit! This isn't a game, this is real! Real dangers, real consequences, real life! And besides, I-I…_" Losing all momentum, he stopped his rant slowing to a stop as he heaved a tired sigh. _"I just couldn't live with myself if something happened to you…" _He mumbled, ending his speech all together.

Three pairs of eyes watched him from the roof top's edge as a silence echoed from Raph's turtle-com, of which, Donatello now used to call Centrice. In reality, the only turtles that actually still had their turtle-coms available were Leonardo and Raphael, Mikey having left his behind for Centrice without her knowledge. The whole thing had been Donatello's idea, not able to sit with the fact that Centrice would be left home alone, but unable to tell her of the turtle-com due to their prior argument.

And now, he waited, the sound of Owen's distant breathing still echoing from his own com as Centrice's breathing echoed from the one he held. If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't have been able to tell that she was still even there.

She was.

But that was it.

"Centrice?" He asked. All of the anger left his body, being replaced instead with the familiar flutter of worry in his chest. "Centrice? Are you alright?"

From the other side of the line, Centrice could do nothing but sit there. Never had he talked to her like that before , never. He was always the quiet type when he was mad, not speaking or speaking very little when she had pushed him too far.

However, this was completely new, unsettling, and not to mention a bit scary.

She felt tears jerk at the back of her vision, but she did not let them fall. Instead, she took a deep breath as the anger left her as well. If he was this upset about it, then maybe she had over-reacted. He really was just trying to protect her from harm, and all she did was just give him a hard time….

Which wasn't really the right thing to do.

"Donny, listen, I'm sorry…I-I…I…"

"Centrice..." Don muttered, cutting her off. He really didn't need her apology. He knew her well enough to know when she was sorry, and these were one of those times. She was and always had been rather…difficult…her being one to hold a grudge. But now he could tell that all was forgiven, her attempted apology being a clue if nothing else was. _"I just wanted to check up on you, that's why I asked Mikey to leave his com at home, so that I could."_

Centrice soaked in the new bit of information, a few of the puzzle pieces falling together at it's meaning. Meanwhile, and on the other side of the line, Donatello continued.

"Centrice, I love you, ok? Don't forget that…" He whispered, turning away as the 'guys' began to snicker. On the other end of the phone, Centrice smiled a little as his voice carried to her, and in response she couldn't help but giggle. Every time they argued, in the end, they always made amends, him reminding her of his undying love, and her not killing him. Now she smiled, unable to keep her school girl giddiness out of her voice as she responded.

"I love you too, Donny. And, I won't…"

Donatello grinned. Everything was definitely ok now.

"Ok, well. I can't really tell you when we will be getting home. Hopefully this won't be an all-nighter, but when we do, I guess I will be seeing you then." He concluded, ending rather breathless, his voice quiet as he concluded their conversation.

Centrice, in turn, also went quiet as she responded.

"Ok, Donny. Love you. Bye." She clicked off the communicator, it going dead on Donny's line as well. With a sigh, he pulled it away from his ear to look at it before journeying over to his brothers. Meanwhile, and with slight grins, they watched him approach their small huddle only to squeeze between the lot of them and take his place once again in the center, tactlessly snatching his communicator away from and out of Michelangelo's grasp.

Their snickers resonated in his ears, but he ignore them, and instead he focused on the immediate on the task before them.

"How is Owen?"

Nevertheless, the snickers continued, accompanied by a nudge every now and then. Meanwhile, and as it was, Leonardo seemed to be the only one actually willing to answer him.

"He's ok. I think he's in now."

Random voices flowed from the com, but that was all Donatello was able to here before his ability to listen was rudely cut off by a rather obnoxious, Brooklyn-accent, voice.

"Yeah, like how you're gonna be 'in' when we get back. Ain't that right Lover-boy!"

Raph and Mike snickered to themselves as they exchanged glances as well as nudges. Donatello heard their laughter and frowned, his voice flat and emotionless as he responded accordingly.

"Raphael? Shut up. It would do the world a _great_ service. Really."

* * *

Owen strode into the dark and murky setting, soaking in the faces all around him. All of them looked familiar, meaning, all of them were criminals of one sort or another. And he couldn't help but smiled. The bounties in this room alone was uncountable, each and every person here, having some kind of record.

Owen began to head toward the bar, but before he could take another step a man intercepted him by suddenly walking by, his form lanky but muscular as he brushed through the crowd and away from Owen's immediate point of view.

In his mind, and with the ease of the skilled and seasoned Bounty-hunter, he recognized the man immediately and completely from memory.

Leonard Kilburn

Born: October 9, 1944

POB: Oxford, Mississippi

Height: 6'3"

Weight: 141 lbs

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Brown

Wanted for crimes against Humanities Rights Law #315

Now with the freedom of passage, Owen strode over to the bar as he eyed his surroundings. Sitting, he watched the people, but before he could turn around to even face the bar behind him, his thoughts were already almost immediately interrupted by a voice in the same direction.

"What's you're drink, bub?"

Turning, Owen faced the bar for the first time that night, only to meet the gaze of the barkeep. Behind the bar a short man stood, his skin well tanned, his hair bleached and pulled back into a rather long ponytail. Meanwhile, his eyes almost seemed to glow a deep emerald green as he patiently waited for Owen's order.

However, Owen knew this man as well…

Ashley Young

Born: August 27, 1936

POB: Dartford, UK

Height: 5'4"

Weight: 116 lbs

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Varies

Wanted for assisted escape of a Fugitive

Wanted for crimes against Humanities Rights Law #129

'Well there's definitely a theme…'

"Ah, No thanks. I'm good." He declined, raising a hand slightly, and in response, the bar keeper only shrugged before moving on. Owen leaned back, attempting to look 'cool' as Michelangelo would put it, as he scoped out his surroundings. Groups of people sat in packs as they talked and chatted amongst themselves. Literally _dozens _of bounty heads occupied this single room, each one more promising than the next. And even now, there were more coming in. Ever so often, one more soul would enter from the door way, having passed the test, but other than that, it was already what seemed to be a full house.

And as it was, all of them seemed to be there for one purpose, and one purpose alone.

"Hey, did you hear? They say that tonight the guy that called us all here will speak."

"That sounds kind of boring to me…"

"But not when it's all against AVTech. They are planning a giant rebellion against those pansies. Finally, we, the true vampires, will rule this pathetic world. Or at least, that's what I heard…"

Owen listened to the general buzz around him, and soaked it in, gaining some of the information he was after just by the various hear say in the room. It seemed that tonight some speaker was supposed to talk; some speaker promising these lowly souls power, in the form of domination…

Which was definitely something not to ignore. Who ever this speaker was, he was definitely dangerous, just with that statement alone.

He was an enemy of AVtech, thus, and enemy of Owen himself.

However, before he could analyze the situation any further, his thoughts were once again interrupted by a voice.

However, and unlike last time, it was a feminine voice.

"I don't remember seeing you around here, stranger…"

Perfect canines gleamed from under the puffy red lips of a perfect face. Well, not quite. A single, nearly black, scar ran down her face, beginning at her left eye before crossing the bridge of her nose and ending at the cheek of the right.

He almost smiled.

Oh, he knew this face well…

Felicity Angelica Faith

Born: December 25, 1643

POB: Unknown

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 119 lbs

Eye Color: Varies

Hair Color: Black

Wanted for illegal smuggling of goods

Charged for the Evasion of Arrest for his crimes against Humanities Rights Law #362

Wanted for the aided escape of thirty five convicts from the Vampireic Penitentiary of Manhattan

She had what bounty hunters like Owen would call 'a full plate.' If caught, the reward could be very generous…but only if caught. One of the main reasons the reward was so high was because of her years of elusion, her seemingly being almost impossible to catch. And at this thought, he couldn't help but smirk.

'_Right into the spider's fangs the fly crawls. Predator to prey, the spider eats…'_

"Well, I am relatively new here... Never really been to anything like this before…"

Being one of his honor, he was not a liar. Telling the truth came all too easy for him.

Besides, the truth always worked better than any lie…

And like silk, she responded, seemingly sliding closer to him as she peered from her orbs into his.

"Well, that's obvious…" She muttered, her mouth barely moving as she leaned forwards, her lips mere inches from his own. **_'If I had seen you before, you would have already been mine.'_**

He was temporarily thrown off by her obvious and outlandish flirtation, but did not lose control. She leaned closer into him, her full intention to explore his mouth with her own, but before their lips were even able to meet, he turned away. Outward, he was apathetic.

However, inwards, he was appalled. Never had he met someone so…free…in his long life. Back in his day, she would have been considered a harlot, a concubine.

However, times do change.

Nowadays she was just considered a plain old whore, a prostitute…

A Vamp.

He looked her over, his eyes observing her from in the darkness of the bar.

Yup_, definitely_ whore material.

At most she probably only wore at least two pieces of clothing. One of which being a skin tight leather pants that she seemingly poured herself into. The other…A nearly see-through mesh top. Although it was black, and it "covered" all, it still could be classified as a top that left nothing to the imagination. He wanted to grimace at her state, but didn't. Instead, he turned away, seeming ignoring her. That is, until he finally opened his mouth to speak one more time, his face still away from her in disregard.

"What's your name, princess?"

Although he did not want to lead her on, it would be preferable to meet an acquaintance here, but only for the information they could provide.

And this might just be that acquaintance…

At his question, the woman seemed to smirk, her eyes glowing knowledgeably as she moved from the bar, only to join him on the other side in order to meet his straying gaze. Then and only then did she finally respond, her voice as smooth and as sweet as chocolate in the presence of the hunk of a man.

"My…friends call me Fai…and yours?"

He paused at her answer, his mind going silently confused for a split second before understanding. He knew for a fact that her name was Felicity, but he humored her, going for the shortened name of her last, Fai.

Well, he could be humored as well…

"O'."

She blinked, her painted brows furrowing as she leaned in closer to hear him.

"What?" She asked, visibly confused.

Nevertheless, Owen restated his answer, his own eyes going knowledgeable as he smirked at the irony of it all.

"Well, _my _friends, call me O'." He declared, his voice sly at it's hidden meaning. However, and just as he suspected, it was all but lost to her, there not being enough connections between his former self and current state to start any suspicions whatsoever, her next question being all the proof he needed of the fact.

"O?"

Her voice was questioning, but he nodded regardless, his smile growing wider by the second at the true success of their plan.

He was in!

"Yes, O'."

* * *

Ok, what do you think? R and R. More to come, so keep watch.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: TMNT not mine, but everyone else is…as well as the phrase, "BOOGADY BOOGADY!"

…it's mines too.

…BOOGADY BOOGADY!

Chapter Two

"So, where are you from?"

She leaned in closer, her eyes reflecting that of sincere interest as she leaned on the back of her hand to peer into the face of the handsome vampire. And in response, Owen only blinked.

He had never really thought about that before…

In his mind, he literally drew a blank. He knew where he was born, but then what?

Yes. He was born in Salem, but do to his father's line of work, his family never stayed in one place for more than a year at the most. Even in his very earlier years of life, he was always on the move.

But then, even when he was finally able to form a family of his own, the longest he had ever settled down was for five and a half years. It would have been longer, but certain…complications…kept them from settling down completely; the same 'complications' that left him homeless, broken, without family and even worse (or at least, those were his feelings at the time) a vampire.

But now that he looked back at the experiences, he realized that there was still no place he could actually call his "home town."

That had the feeling of home at least…

So…what was he supposed to say _without _having the feeling of lying irk at his gut. He looked up at her hesitantly, watching as her eyes went from a deep blue to a dark green while peering into his face with a look of heavy interest. However, at her iris's unexpected change, he almost raised his eyebrows in surprise…almost.

'"Eye color: Varies'…Who would have thought that it was supposed to be taken **literally**?'

Nevertheless, she still watched him, waiting for the answer that, oblivious to her, he did not have.

"Well?" She prodded. "This isn't jeopardy, where are you from? Or do you not remember?"

Her eyes flashed with what Owen could only recognize as amusement. But still, he had nothing.

'Well, I have to say **something,** or else she'll begin to suspect me for sure!"

He had no other choice. He needed to say something, and fast; the entire mission was now at stake.

So, with one more cool (but forced) smile in her direction, he ran a hand serenely through his hair before replying.

"Well,…I-"

"It's starting!"

A youth's screech rung out before the crowd. He seemed to have just ran into the room from elsewhere only moments earlier.

Nevertheless, the reaction was instantaneous.

The room was immediately set into motion. The people closest to the appearing boy following him out of the room first while everyone else just followed in their tracks.

And like a cow to slaughter, Fai rose to follow the crowd as well.

"Come on, O'. It's starting."

She reached out for his hand, but he declined the offer, getting up instead and crossing his arms before following the crowd himself. Fai looked after him, not at all used to being disregarded so bluntly, but nevertheless, she shrugged it off.

The night was still young…she still had plenty of time to claim her prize of the day.

Smirking, she followed the tall black-haired man, silently observing the way his form tantalizingly snaked as he walked in his loose-fitting clothing.

Definitely a sex god.

Which only meant that she _had _to have him…

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Trevor watched the people below from behind a giant shower of crimson. Things seemed to be going completely as planed, so far…

The masses gathered before his very eyes, each and every vampire showing an eagerness and enthusiasm that could not be seconded by the likes of anyone else. He scanned over the faces below, recognizing each and every one from his former associations with this _particular _crowd of people.

All of them, however, except for one…

"A…newcomer?"

He raised one red, bushy eyebrow at the occurrence. That was something you didn't see everyday. Black hair draped elegantly in the new youth's face.

Black hair?…Or was it purple?…Or was it blue?

Trevor smiled. Whatever it was, it proved very original. It seemed that in the different lights his hair was a different color, but still the same. Nevertheless, whatever it was, it suited the youth just fine.

Other than that, the youth blended right in; black on black, punk all the way. He was even adorned with the various spikes and jewelry the others wore as well…

Too bad he wasn't like the others.

Too bad he was just a bounty hunter in disguise.

Trevor watched as the guy's mouth expanded just enough to allow a bubble of pink to pop against his lips before finally sitting down.

And beside him sat his escort, of whom, Trevor knew _very _well.

"Fai, that harlot! She doesn't even know of whom she is associating herself with!"

Trevor grinned at her ignorance. This "newcomer" was no doubt a newbie Bounty-hunter, tipped off about this gathering by some partisan and chose to attend in hopes of scoring a few boundaries on his big night out.

Probably his first.

Well, tonight, Trevor, had _other_ plans.

"Anthony, I want that guy watched. If he pulls anything, kill him. If not…"

Trevor turned away from the dark curtain, his long coat flowing around him as turned.

"Then I shall be attending to him _myself._"  
Smirking, Trevor watched as the simple "stagehand" ran off to alert the others of their new orders.

And that he should; their own lives being at stake if things weren't done to Trevor's will.

It was then that Trevor paused in his musings to listen to the world just on the other side of the curtains. Yes, finally the auditorium was full, the buzz behind the curtain being enough prove of that.

Which was just what Trevor was waiting for. Sinisterly, he threw one last look between the curtains, eyeing the crowd as well as the "newcomer."

He was no threat, not with his guys watching him like a hawk. And hey, if the guy _didn't _try anything, he might just get rewarded for it…

Turning completely away from the curtains now, he vainly adjusted his coat and hair.

He had to look presentable if he was to appear before his _adoring, _and _enthusiastic_ fans.

"It's go time…" he finally whispered, moving away from the curtains to his spot on the stage.

He would give a die hard performance, one that they would truly 'die' for.

* * *

Owen followed the crowd, peripherally aware of the girl following _him_ but paid it no more attention than necessary.

He didn't want her to think that he was leading her on…Well, in the sense that _she _was thinking of anyway…

Nevertheless, he followed the crowd out of the swarming room and into the main one, seemingly much bigger and much more suited for larger swarm of vampires. This new room seemed to be a downstairs lobby of sorts, much bigger in contrast to the remains of the lobby he had seen upon walking in earlier.

Which made this place even more suitable for tonight's festivities.

Owen wasted no time in finding a seat, settling for claiming the closest fold-out chair available, but did not sit just yet. Instead, he scoped out his surroundings.

Even though the chairs seemed to be somewhat randomly distributed throughout the room, they still faced in one main direction, a curtained off stage. That, clearly, would be where the main speaker presented from, and upon looking around, he discovered that he was not the only one to come to this conclusion. Around him, the vampires quickly assembled themselves in their seating only to converse in hush tones about what they were about to witness tonight.

However, before he could completely scope out his surroundings, a female voice buzzed in his ear, interrupting his thoughts for maybe the zillionth time that night.

"Aren't you going to sit down?"

Her voice reflected that of impatience as Owen paid attention to everything, _but _her. Which, to her, was just unacceptable.

Meanwhile, Owen blinked at her voice. He had nearly forgot that he was in her company, but like everything else, he should have known that she wouldn't have let him forget her for long. Looking down at her, he observed her annoyance, and counteracted with a look of nothing but placidness before neatly shrugging.

"I guess now I have no choice." He joked, moving to sit.

However, it was then that everything seemed to happen at once.

There was a sudden and substantial poke at the back of his brain, a drilling sensation that he knew meant only one thing…

He was being watched.

"O'?"

For once, Owen didn't ignore her speech, turning to her as if to get away from the unseen pair of eyes, of which, he knew was on him.

'Well, if it's a show they want, then a show they shall have.'

If people were going to watch him, then he might as well give them something to look at.

Popping his gum, he finally sat, facing the direction of the stage as the girl next to him instilled his arm in her grasp. He took care of her accordingly.

"Relax, babe, it's staring soon." He stated cockily between snaps of his (now flavorless) gum and the smirk on his lips. Deep down inside though, his mind rebelled against using the impertinently tasteless phrase, 'babe;' equally as tasteless as the gum that he _still _chewed.

Nevertheless, he smirked, his outward appearance becoming exactly what his insides were rebelling.

Uncaringly, he easily snatched his arm away from her grasp only to cross it over his chest with the other. Leaning back in his chair, he heftily brought his foot up and down, landing it heavily on the back of the empty chair before him.

'If it's a show they want…'

Meanwhile he watched peripherally as she eyed him, clearly irked over his overall peculiar behavior, but she seemed to shrug it off soon after, settling instead for sitting back.

Owen "watched" and waited, smiling only after she had completely shrugged off his behavior, turning her attention elsewhere and to the stage. However, not too long after her attention did finally wander away did Owen find that his "admirer" was also sidetracked, the drilling on his mind dieing down as the single hawk of an observer finally looked away. However, he still felt a bit of a resonance of the drilling feeling on his brain, which only meant that he was still being watched but not to the intensity of his original onlooker. Nevertheless, Owen smiled, but it was hardly visible as the lights around him suddenly dimmed to that of an almost complete darkness. The smirk remained on his face even as the air around him seemed to hush at the darkness, sensing the upcoming debut of the well known presenter himself.

His amusement remained planted even as sudden beams of light sprung up from somewhere above and behind him, the two shafts of brightness wandering about the stage only a few moments before settling simultaneity on its center. It was then that the curtains finally opened, revealing he that was foretold to speak before them. However, that pre-knowledge did nothing to prepare Owen for who was truly behind the curtain.

But when he did see, his smile finally dropped for all it was worth shock took its unmerciful toll on his heart.

'Trevor?! He's the mastermind behind all of this?!'

Meanwhile, and on stage, Trevor opened his eyes only to grin as his audience applauded.

"Welcome!" He bellowed, his hands extending wide in warm devoirs. "Welcome my brothers in blood! Welcome my fellow creatures of the night! And welcome," It was here that Trevor seemed to shift in gaze, no longer over looking the crowd…

But looking the bounty hunter in the eye instead.

"Last but not least, Fellow believers of the _true_ fellowship…**_Scholmus Adoratius Diabolo!_**"

Trevor thrusted a fist into the air, and at his exclamation the crowd seemed to go wild, responding in nearly one voice of damnation and to Owen's utmost disgust.

"**_Scholmus Diabolo!_**"

"_Scholmus Diabolo!_" Fai squeaked with bouncing excitement. Her hands clapped as she grinned. Meanwhile, Owen couldn't help but gape, not able to believe exactly what he was hearing, but believing it all the same since he was now amongst it…

'What in the netherworld have I gotten myself into…'

* * *

A heavy silence fell on the turtles, it being the only way they could express their new feeling resulting from having "overheard" the entire thing.

However, and like always, it was Michelangelo who made it his duty to break the silence, his voice expressing the collective thoughts of them all, of course adding in his own charms as well.

"Dude…if that's not freaky, I don't know what is!" He breathed. Meanwhile, Leo furrowed his brows in contemplation.

"_Scholmus Adoratius Diabolo_? What does that mean, Donny?"

Turning to his brother, he crossed his arms at his perplexity, leading the others to eye their brother for answers as well.

Suddenly falling under all of their gazes, Donatello resisted the heavy urge to roll his eyes.

'I may be a genius, but geez, I don't know **everything**!'

Nevertheless, and for his brothers' sakes, he gave it a go, drawing a bit of knowledge from a book he had read too long ago, in a subject that he had hardly found interesting at the time.

"Well, I'm no Latin buff, but I think it loosely translates to…The elite demon worshipers…"

His voice hung in the air as they all absorbed his diagnostic.

Demon worshipers.

Is that what they were? Is that why they gathered? To worship demons?

It was funny.

None of them really had the time to think about the existence of higher beings…before now.

With the coming of Owen came the coming of the understanding that there were, indeed, higher beings; Angels being the very _source _of his existence.

But Demons?  
Did the 'higher beings' extend to the other side of the spectrum as well?

Well according to their new bit of information, it did, and it was a very active side indeed.

However, and as it was, this did not sit well with any of the turtles. How could it?

Hell?  
Demons?

Satan?

Too much, too fast, too _real…_

"I don't like this."

Leonardo's somber voice sounded out against the darkness, the wind playing with his blue bandanna tails as he looked over the roof top and to the building Owen now resided in. "I don't like this at all."

And in response, Raph nodded, leaning over the roof top as well to join his brother in thought.

"Yeah, this is some freaky shit, like somethin' out of the X-files, or somethin'."

"Hey, do you think the X-files are real too?!"  
Michelangelo's high pitched inquiry earned him nothing more than a hard stare from his primary-colored brothers, and response, he gulped.

"Ok, shutting up."

"You guys hungry?"

Both Raph, Leo, and Mikey turned to see their other brother sifting through his old and worn carry bag. Hesitantly they each stood, each one of them curious as to what he was up to, but still weary all the same.

…Until Mikey saw the sandwiches.

"Donny! You're the best!" He all but exclaimed, snatching one of the breaded delights and digging in, his former fears and troubles forgotten with the introduction of beloved food. Donny blinked at his brother's enthusiasm, but gave it no more thought, being all but used to his little brother's antics.

"I brought sandwiches." He stated the obvious, but nevertheless it was well received by the remaining two brothers. Their stomachs growled ruthlessly, dinner having been served too long ago…

"Donny, pass one over here. I'm starvin' bro!"

"Good thinking Donny! These are really good."

And as it was, both Raphael and Leonardo dug in as well.

Now seated in a row, and eating quietly, they all listened to the light breathing of Owen and the speech of some man none of them knew anything about.

However, as the rustling continued, Raph turned, his attention drawn away from the transmitter and to Donatello who, once again, rummaged through his bag.

It was then that he finally realize something.

Donatello had only brought three sandwiches…

"Hey Donny, what you gonna eat?-"

His speech was cut off, however, as Donatello finally seemed to find what he was looking for. In one fleeting motion, Donatello unsheathed the blood pack from the dark fabric of the bag. Wasting no time at all, he quickly brought it to his mouth, the plastic ripping under his wide teeth with no resistance whatsoever.

Raph watched as his brother seemed to ignore him, and instead, sucked lightly on the pack of blood now in his mouth. Sighing, he shook his head, his attention going back to that of the now babbling telecom.

"…Never mind."

* * *

Owen fidgeted in his chair, not at all comfortable with the situation or events around him, but having no other choice than to endure and listen. If he could, without fear of being called out, he would definitely have his IP in his fingers right about now. Flipping it, just for the sake of doing _something_ that could distract him from…this…

Around him the crowd roared at the recognition of their infamous speaker, and in response Trevor seemed to grow in girth as he became swollen with self-righteousness.

"Yes, Cheer!" He edged. "Cheer for me, your brother in blood. Memorize my Face, my voice, my presence! Because I am your _freedom_!"

The air around Owen seemed to let out yet another roar of approval along with a murmur of curiosity, the vampires around him not at all afraid to express their now growing anticipation or confusion as it was.

"Our freedom?"

Fai's inquiry seemed to grow above the murmur only because it was right next to him. He watched her turn towards him, her eyes lighten from a dark green to a light blue and then to a milky white (with a slight remaining tint of blue) as they reflected her ever growing curiosity. Although this time he was better prepared for the change, he still had to admit that it did creep him out…

On the outside, however, he only shrugged at her gaze before turning back to the iniquitous Trevor, attempting to will her unsettling gaze back to the stage as well.

And as such, it worked. Her face turned almost simultaneously back to the stage again.

On the inside, Owen sighed. He really didn't like the way she watched him, so having her attention elsewhere was preferable, even if it was on Trevor.

Besides, it seemed as though Trevor didn't mind the "extra attention" at all. If anything, he craved it, continuing his speech at the audience's murmur.

"Yes. I am your freedom! But _only_ If you join me…" He grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation for what he knew was coming. And as expected, the audience's response was almost immediate.

"Join you doing what? How do we know that you're not just bull-shitting us?" A male voice yelled from somewhere to Owen's left, which trigged yet another wave of murmuring amongst the crowd.

They knew _of _Trevor, just as they knew _of _Owen; his face being recognizable and known only through his reputation. However, that did not mean that they "knew" Trevor, just heard of him; Face and Rep, nothing more. Which meant that if they were going to entrust Trevor with such an important and valuable thing as their service, they would need proof of his…reliability…at lack of a better word.

However, it seemed that as always, Trevor was one step ahead of the game.

"Oh, skeptics I see. Well then. I guess I will just have to prove myself…Join me, your brother, your friend, and my comrades, you will join _THIS!_"

Owen reared back, as did the rest of the crowd as the stage and all of its occupants suddenly and literally burst into flames.

There was a moment of chaos as the vampires startled from their seats. However, over the chaos and over the shouting, a single voice sounded out, calming the storm with only four simple word.

"Lord Drakoc, I presume."

Everyone turned to the direction of the stage, only to witness the one they knew as Trevor widen his arms as if to embrace them all before lowering to the ground in a low kneel. Behind him, the fire that consumed the stage centered to one spot as a single demonic face seemed form amongst it.

But that was all.

Just as quickly as it had veered up, it went down, the fire smoldering and disintegrating to nothing right before all of their eyes.

Except for Trevor.

Trevor smiled as he watched their faces go from utter shocked to frightened and then to slow amazement in only a matter of seconds. Just as he had predicted, Drakoc couldn't resist making an appearance, but also as predicted, the demon did not have the energy back it up. Thus, the entire thing resulted in a burning stage, the Demon's presence being too much for the satin curtains, the stage and the Demon himself.

Although Trevor was left unharmed, the presence's sudden appearance left the stage smoldering, of which, it still did now…

Nevertheless, Trevor still smiled, his smirk smug as he watched the vampires stare at him and the smoking stage with stunned silence. He chuckled then, breaking the heavy silence while enjoying the sheer power that engulfed him as it did the stage…The true power…

"Is this enough proof of my sincerity? In three nights, we will rise just as you have witnessed tonight. We will rise up like the burning flames that consumed this stage, except…we will consume AVTech instead."

The crowd around him roared with approval, shouting what seemed to be Trevor's praises as well as their own eagerness to join his cause.

Owen gulped.

Whatever his thoughts of this meeting were before, it was all irrelevant now, his thoughts being thrown out of the window with the now shambled and burned stage.

All that was left was the unrelenting truth, a truth that he had been anything but expecting…

Anti-AVtech ranting? Yes.

Talk of revolution? Yes.

But this?! Demonic power and actual talk of overthrowing the ENTIRE AVTech CORPORATION, in a mere **_three nights_**?! Not at all expected!  
Not at all.

He was at loss to say the least.

Nevertheless, Trevor still continued.

"Join our cause, and Drakoc shall join you as well. Come to the Docks in three nights and from there, we will take over this puny world _one _corporationat a _time_…"

His evil sneer was only seconded by the sneers of the vampires around him as they roared. Enthused, they chanted, their voices united to form one sound…

"Down with AVTech!!! Down with AVTech!!! **Down with AVTech!!!**"

It was then that Trevor finally left the stage, his task of gaining favor complete. However, Trevor's departure was hardly noted as the crowd evolved into a fit of speech, once again leading to a chaos of chatter. Nevertheless, the phrase "Down with AVTech" still flowed from the lips of the vampires like a new catch phrase amongst a bunch of preteens. Every repeat of the hideous phrase left Owen more and more convinced on what he had to do. Narrowing his eyes, he allowed the "O'" facade to fall for the first time that night, physically unable to bite his tongue any longer.

Not only were they basically attacking his way of life, but they also planned on attacking him at his heart…The AVTech corporation. Which lead him to one conclusion, and one conclusion alone...

"Whatever it is, I must stop it! This madness shall cease, and I will be the one to shut it up!"

"Did you say something?"

Owen turned, startled out of his anger at the female voice next to him. For a few moments, he didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to say it aloud but he did, which could easily become his undoing.

Swallowing, he regained a bit of the composure he hoped she didn't see him loose.

Maybe if he played his cards right…

"I said…that I shall join Trevor no matter what the cost!"

Putting enthusiasm into the last few words, he acted his way out of the sticky situation. Grinning, Fai nodded wildly, completely ignorant of his true thoughts. It was then that she turned back to the giant crowd, of which, surrounded the both of them with bumbling bodies as they finally disassembled.

The "show" was over, and it showed. Every one rose form their seats and began to talk amongst themselves. He was just about to get up to join the crowd (something that he had never done until this night) but just as he stood, a heavy hand found his shoulder. Before he could even turn, a voice was in his ear.

A male voice, slightly accented with that of Old English…

"Our leader wants to make your acquaintance. I would advise that you do not keep him waiting."

Then, before he could even blink, that same hand seemed to whisk him away and deeper into the crowd. Finding his footing, he followed, his panicked mind keeping him from speaking against anything at the moment. All he could do was keep mum and follow the complete stranger, just as he was instructed to. His muffled mind hardly had time to grasp the man's speech before he was brought through a pair of satin curtains that up to a few moments ago, had matched the curtains on the stage. Slowly the sound of talking and chatting died down as he was pulled deeper and deeper in to the abyss of the unknown, and cold dark silence took its place. It was not until seeing the cold gray stones of the room and feeling the emptiness that was suddenly around him (the man had left almost as fast as he had come) that he was finally able to think.

'…Wait! Leader?! But, that means-'

"Sorry, to keep you waiting my friend, but I had some rather important…and sweltering, business to attend to."

Owen froze completely. His whole body went stiff at the sickeningly familiar voice. Slowly, he turned, his eyes going wide as they conformed what he already knew.

Dark coat?

Fiery red hair?

Big gun?

Disgusting smirk?

Definitely Trevor.

Meanwhile, that smirk seemed to grow (if possible) bigger upon observing the shock on the young man's face.

'Ah. Once again, my reputation precedes me…'

" So, your new here, I see. I haven't seen you at any of our former "get-togethers.""

Trevor's voice, instead of being cool and calculated was…friendly. Something Owen NEVER thought he would have witnessed…well, in his life time anyways.

And in response, Owen truly didn't know how to react. He nearly frowned in confusion. Why wasn't he being killed right now?

'_Maybe all is not lost. Can it be that he actually does not recognize me?'_

Nevertheless, and despite the hopeful thoughts, Owen kept his senses on high. Meanwhile the shock never really left his face, but only succeeded in going from absolute shock to just being taken back, to almost a deep skepticism.

Trevor watched him, he noticed, seemingly interested but not in the expected hate that would have been seen on his face any other time he addressed Owen.

Perhaps his cover wasn't blown after all…

And now it was time for his acting skills to take effect.

"Wow, Mr. Greystone, I can't believe I'm meetin' you…_in person!_"

Although he was smiling on the outside, he was rolling his eyes on the inside. Really, what a truthful statement. Almost an understatement, almost…

Meanwhile, though, he reached out his hand, and when the vampire took it, Owen made sure to shake it vigorously while grinning like an idiot, just as an admiring fan would do for his hero.

For his _valiant _hero.

'Oh yeah. What a **valiant **guy!Too bad he's **evil, **not to mention** insane!**"

Nevertheless, he continued to grin up until their hands' release, then he just stood there, not really sure as to where this was going, but anxious nonetheless.

Just as he was supposed to be.

"So…you wan'ed to see me for somethin'?"

Owen knew that he normally had a slight accent, his voice being affected by his roots in Salem and well as his prior experiences in England and London. However, now, when he spoke to Trevor, he made sure to loose the accent as best as he could. With that, he even found himself adopting a new one.

Kind of like the accent of a certain, red-banded turtle he knew…

He nervously watched the vampire before him, only to noticed that he was being observed as well.

It was as if Trevor didn't know what to make of him.

And in reality…he didn't.

'So familiar…'

Well, more than familiar. He could recognize that powerful essence anywhere. It was Owen's essence…but somehow…not.

This guys was too….different, to be Owen. Nothing was clicking together, which left Trevor at a temporary loss. He _felt_ Owen, oh he _definitely_ felt Owen, but everything was too wrong to _be _Owen. However, despite everything else, he knew that this kid was at least a Bounty Hunter. That much he could _smell!_ But everything else left him at a level of perplexity that he could not battle.

On looks alone, this kid was definitely_ not_ the valiant, "goody, goody" vampire he loathed and hated. Actually…on the contrary. His choice in clothes and jewelry seemed to be rather…blunt…in nature. He was a rebel, just like the rest of his followers, the spikes and various other adornments paying witness to that. Standard accessories really; studded wrists bands, spiked neck bands. Silver chains…

However, one certain piece of jewelry did catch Trevor's eye.

"That's a nice amulet you've got there. May I ask, _where _you got it from?"

Trevor watched the vampire blink before looking down, as if discovering the amulet for the first time himself.

"My…amulet?"

Owen eyed the piece of adornment himself, not at all expecting the dangerous vampire, his well known enemy, to notice…

There was something special about the amulet though…something he did notice as well, which was one of the reasons he had chosen it from the bag in the first place.

'I must ask Mike where he got it from, but now, there's more important things to take care of.'

"Yeah, well, A friend gave it to me."

He replied curtly, shoving the conversation aside as he placed the talisman back onto his chest, but not before giving it one last stray glance. The colors seemed to shift in the dim light, very astonishing, but unimportant at the moment.

He let it go.

"You didn't bring me here to comment on my jewelry, did ya?" Owen remarked playfully. Nevertheless, he nervously crossed his arms.

It was difficult, he had to admit. Everything he did now he had to do because it was expected of him in the role that he played. In reality, he was actually rather apprehensive. Trevor was as much an enemy to him, as he was to Trevor. If all of his ideals and beliefs could be brought together into one essence, and then extracted to form its exact opposite, that extraction in its simplest form would be Trevor himself.

It was times like these that Owen found himself wondering how could he have ever _allowed_ himself to be fooled by this rogue in the first place? All those lifetimes ago…

Nevertheless, this was the present and not the past. Therefore, he had to deal with the here and now, and _not _the unchangeable history.

No matter how…"abhorrent"…the events of 'then' seemed, or how they made him feel.

On the outside, he stayed in character despite his unbearable turmoil. He could not lose it now, he could not, for the sake of his company. He had the information he would have died for, and now all he had to do was get past Trevor, and everything would be all set…

Easier said than done.

However, before he could come up with something to break the _uncomfortable _silence, Trevor spoke, his voice still the same friendly tone it was earlier.

Except, this time, it was a little bit more eager than before. A bit more, inquisitive.

"Well, I was just wondering about where one could obtain such a striking piece of jewelry…However, on to real business."

Trevor seemed to go from lax and friendly to determined and austere in less than the blink of an eye, which, in turn, resulted in Owen catching up to the giant leap in tone.

No problem when you're speaking with the enemy.

"I am not one for wasting time, so I will be blunt." Trevor explained, dropping the formalities. He really should have done this before, but the amulet caught his attention like none other.

There really was something about that amulet…he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Nevertheless, he shook the odd feelings away before continuing. Being the busy vampire that he was, he really didn't have time for this anyways…

"As you know, AVTech's overthrow will be soon coming. And when it does come, Drakoc will finally get what he deserves. I will reign supreme as his one and only disciple, making me ruler of this sorry Earth. But I cannot do it alone…"

"…So, you want me to reign with you?"

Owen guessed at his motive, not at all understanding the reasoning behind it, but able to decipher where it was going.

And in response, Trevor smirked. Smart kid.

"Well, in a sense, yes. You won't be as _powerful_ as me, however, but still I can give you a very _preferable _status for someone of your…experience." He breathed, his voice flowing and subtle like a poison on the wind.

A poison that Owen knew well.

"Status?" He asked, ignoring the all but obvious evil underlining factor while adding one of his own. Hey, he was "evil" now. Might as well play the part…

Trevor smirked. Owen nearly threw up, the hate he felt with that move alone made him want to kill the retch right then and there, but he didn't. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow at Trevor's sudden answer.

"My leading General, second in command, higher in rank than all _except _me. How does that sound?"

Although his immediate mind _screamed_ no, he did not let it be his guide.

A deal with the devil was still a deal, and it was meant to be thought over, pondered, considered…

Basically, to use to his advantage!

"The catch?" He asked knowledgably. Never can one achieve something preferable without there being some kind of repercussion in return, especially with _this _set.

"Just working with me in ruling over this miserable world. So, do we have a deal?"

Trevor extended his hand, his smirk matching that of his eyes. Cold, dark, evilly amused, but determined, as was Owen.

The back haired "teen" sharply eyed the extended hand, but made no move to accept it. Instead, his mouth extended into a rather lopsided grin before shaking his head in mock wonder. Standing outside of the situation (which was the only way he could get through it) allowed him to see the overall picture. And something was wrong.

"But you don't even know my name yet." Owen acknowledged, quietly (and feigningly) astonished. However, on the inside the warning bells were relentless. If he told Trevor his "name," that alone would be the end. It would surely give away his secret identity.

Trevor was already all over him analytically, prodding and analyzing his demeanor throughout the entire ordeal. He could tell. However, it was a warning that had to be ignored. He had to remember, here he was not Owen. He was O', a completely and totally different person. A person that was ignorant of anything that had to do with Trevor, besides the obvious. All O' knew was that this vampire, this _famous _vampire, was suddenly showing interest in him. Almost too good to be true, especially since the famous vampire knew nothing about him, one of those "nothings" being his name.

Therefore, Owen had to keep in character.

Agreeing to the deal's demands _too_ hastily and not saying anything of his disbelief would have been just as perilous as actually giving his name, narrowing the fine line of "safety" even more.

But it was a risk he just had to take. Swallowing his troubles, he watched the vampire evenly, his lopsided grin never faltering from his features. He even kept the humor in his eyes as if the entire thing had left him tickled at it's absurdity. Quite a task to pull off, even for the millennia-year-old vampire, but a task that was still deemed successful.

Trevor chuckled at the kid's seemingly innocent statement before turning away. His feet were already in motion and heading for the room's opening before responding, his voice clear like crystal as it rang against the cold dark stones that surrounded them.

"There is no need for such formalities. You know me, don't you? That is all that is important."

Trevor reached the doorway, but before turning into the dark corridor beyond he turned back, looking the "kid" in the eye for the last time. "In the meantime, I recommend you think over my offer, thoroughly. I will be expecting your answer at our next meeting, three nights from now. Until then my friend, _Diabolus fortune licet_."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Owen alone in the darkness of the room, and the coldness of his own thoughts.

* * *

"Do you seem him?"

Raph's voice was that of the utmost impatience as he scanned the ground below, as did his brothers. It seemed as though the friendly "convention" had let out several minutes earlier, a rather large crowd exiting the building at about the same time. Now there were a few straggles, seemingly in conversation about the occurrence of that night, but no Owen. They knew that he had been held back, someone coming to him rather weirdly, asking him to stay behind.

Only to talk to the head lord himself.

"This…Trevor guy, bad news?"

"The badest."

Mike nodded as Donny answered his question.

"My thoughts exactly."

After their many years of going up against various villains themselves, it was no problem discerning the overall baddies from the ones that wern't just bad, but sinisterly bad.

And this Trevor was just that.

"Do you think he's in trouble?"

Mike looked to his brothers again, of whom were each a distance away from him, scanning the ground from various angles. Although his voice was quiet, trained ears still heard him. Although most ignored him. Nevertheless, the brother closest to him, Donatello, still responded, although his mind and eyes were elsewhere.

"Well, that would've been a good idea _if_ we didn't have the transmitter. Mikey, we would have _heard_ if something was up."

Both Don and Mike turned to the turtle-com/transmitter as it crinkled lightly. Nevertheless, Owen's light breathing was still audible on the com, meaning that Owen was just fine.

"Well, then, were is he-"

Mike's string of inquiries were finally cut off by a movement from down below. At the sounds, Mike as well as Don shot up to watch their fearless leader. In turn, Leo eyed Raph, meeting his gaze as well before falling back to the ground below in silent order.

Basically, the "order" was to be ready for anything.

However, their growing readiness and anxiety was squelched as a certain black haired youth stepped through the broken doorway and into a now empty street.

Donatello looked into his brother's faces, not at all surprised to see their wide grins, which he knew matched his own.

Owen made it out, _without _his cover being blown.

The mission was a success.

Now all they had to do was reap the benefits…

Looking up at their leader once more, he received a nod. It was time. Donatello began to clean up, placing all of the hardware back into his carry bag. Around him his brother dressed for the occasion, fedoras and trench coats being dispersed to demand. Just as Donatello had finally zipped up, the roof top was empty. His brothers were gone, already on their way to giving Owen a surprise visit.

That was the plan after all.

Sighing, he put on his own trench and fedora, warily scanning the roof top for any remnants of their own transactions. Finding none, he smiled as he strapped the rather large but light bag to his back before leaping down off of the roof itself.

Time to join the party.

* * *

Owen took a breath of crisp night air. It was good to be out of that stuffy old hotel, even if his mind wasn't at ease. He had a feeling it wouldn't be for a while.

How at ease could one's mind be after learning that what you had held as truth had been a gross understatement. This was all bigger than he had thought, which only meant that he had to turn up the heat. Starting now, things were going to change, starting with him. He needed to start training again…seriously. He couldn't remember the last time he had done some serious training, other than his lax morning and evening practices. In exactly three nights the devastation of the world would be at hand, and as it was, Owen was its only hope. Which only meant that he had to be at his peak, and he had only three nights to get there.

****

'What about the turtles? What are you going to tell them?"

Owen nearly froze in his tracks. His hands suddenly found the overly-large pockets of his pants as he nervously weighed the factors.

Above him the sky rumbled; a sprinkle would be inevitable, but that was the farthest thing on his mind…

The turtles were the main reasons behind why he was even here, but what would he tell them when he got back? He couldn't just say nothing, they would all be down his throat as soon as he walked in the lair. _Especially_ Michelangelo. But to get them involved? That was out of the question. This was way bigger than he had even imagined, _he _could hardly handle it. How would three normal mutant turtles, one amateur vampire turtle and a regular human girl be able to cope?

His stroll startled to a stop as he pondered over his newest problem turned obstacle.

Meanwhile, as his thoughts grew and developed, unknown to him, the shadows around him grew as well. Too distracted to notice, he turned down another dark alley only to find that it was a dead end.

'Wait. What? I did turn down this alley, right, coming in?…Ug, my mind was so busy thinking about the meeting that I walked myself right into a dead end…just like my predicament."

Above him, the sky rolled.

He truly was at a dead end. If he went home, the turtles would definitely become involved. But what else was he supposed to do? This was all dangerous, too dangerous for him, not to mention the turtles. He could not get them involved.

Which only meant…

"I can't go back. Anything to ensure that they don't get involved."

However, and like always, Fate had other plans.

"Get involved in what?"

Like a snake from a sand pit, the voice snuck out too him, causing him to freeze.

He knew that voice. Almost _too _well, in fact.

"You know, one would have thought that after the last time, you would have learned not to spy on me, Michelangelo."

However, it was then that he was proven wrong again, for this time another voice piped up from the darkness.

"Who say's that he's the only one?" A Brooklyn accented voice countered, his tone playful as if the person behind it found the entire thing rather amusing.

'…Funny. I don't find this amusing at all. Actually, on the contrary.'

A small bit of rage built up in his soul, but still he was more annoyed than anything. He never took kindly to being 'watched,'_ especially_ without his knowledge. He worked hard on his skills; to have them bested right under his nose was more insulting that annoying, making it was one of the many reason he had chosen to seclude himself for so many years. However, now with the turtles, it seemed as though nothing was as once thought. His skills faced a challenge almost everyday, stretching his experience as well as his nerves.

Nevertheless, it changed him. He could tell. The changes were small, but they were there. Never had he been one to joke around, or even laugh openly, but it seemed that with them he was entitled too, only because everyone else was so open and free with their emotions. And that had changed him.

If that didn't then something else did, because back when he lived alone if he found any spies, they would have been dead before they could even speak…

"What are you all doing here? I thought I was supposed to do this alone." He sighed, feeling the anger drain away as it did a lot nowadays. Small water droplets began to fall from the dark sky, which also helped sooth his now falling temper. There was no sense in getting mad. They were already here so there was no sense in busting a vain because of it. The most he could do was face the fire and deal with it accordingly.

Turning away from the dead end of a brick wall, he faced the darkness that just forwent the large gap that was the alley's opening. However, and as it was, four shadows stood in that opening, four shadows that he knew well.

Nevertheless, and despite Owen's well sensed discontent the first form stepped forward, his blue bandana billowing wildly from under his low fedora. The cold storm-induced winds also played with Owen's amulet, sending it on a billow of escape before falling back in defeat, bound to the neck of the man who wore it. The entire transaction went ill noticed however, as Leonardo slowly stepped forward. Like a beam of light on a cold dark night, Leo's voice rung out in the dark alleyway.

"You should know by now that we never let one of our own face something like this by themselves. We are behind you, from start to finish."

"You are apart of this clan, and as such, your problems…are our problems."

Donatello stepped out from behind his brother, moving closer and closer to the now befuddled vampire. "How many times do we have to remind you?" He asked with a slight smile and shake of his head.

Owen could just be so anally stubborn sometimes, but then again, looking at his family, he fit right in.

Meanwhile, Owen seemed to sigh. Once again the turtles had managed to quell his independent spirit, only to fill him with the warm feeling of being apart of a "family" again.

Yes, he had definitely changed, but not much…

He still knew what he had to do.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he let it go, smiling a bit as he managed to shuffle his way past the "warm moment of bonding" and into the wet and cold night beyond. He had no time for this, not with only three days being between the world and destruction.

"Look this is nice and all, and I understand what you all are saying, but it's not that easy. So I'll just skip the general formalities and get to the real issue. This mission looks as if it is bigger than I had originally planned, thus for the safety of the clan…" He turned to them then to address them personally, but was surprised by the fact that they had actually followed him out of the alley. Nevertheless, he continued his gaunt, but turned to face them as he addressed them properly. "I must not get you all involved. These issues are much too…complicated, this time. Too big. I'm sorry, but I can't just get you involved with a clean conscience." He explained as he continued his forward trot but backward speech, effectively making him walk…well…backwards down the deserted wet pavement, only to have four silent dark bulky forms following him every step of the way. Quite obviously, they still did not seem to understand…so he clarified.

"Stop." He demanded, his voice definite against the pitter-patter of the rain as well as the roar of the heavens. And as such, his will was followed, all four of the turtles stopping at the sudden halt in his step, the outstretched pale hand as well as the fire in his voice. "Do not follow me anymore. You know what, do not follow me, ever again. I won't be coming home tonight. I think you guys can figure it out from there."

With one last backward glance, Owen turned away, shoving his hand directly back into his pockets. Although he began to walk away, he still reached out with his senses and was pleases to "see" that the turtles did as they were told, for once, and stayed put.

However, knowing the turtles, he knew they wouldn't stay put or quiet for long. And this time, he was proven absolutely right.

"Why is it that you think that we can't handle this? We're…resourceful. I think we can take a few vampires."

Raph's overconfident badger was unequivocal. But Owen couldn't help but offer a response anyways.

"Oh, this is definitely bigger than you. It's even bigger than me…" The last sentence was more a whisper of desperation than anything else. He really did have to do this alone, if even just to protect the turtles. But it was 'too big' even for him, "too complicated."

He really didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew whatever it was the turtles would not be involved.

Meanwhile, Fate had something else in plan. Although Owen's determination was stone strong, it could still be broken. Mountains don't last forever. And neither does the rock that construct it. Sometimes, all it takes is a small continuous force of water to erode the mountain, making it nothing but pebbles.

"Owen, we know."

Despite his gaunt and the fall of water around him, Owen's exceptional ears were still able to pick up on the hushed whisper that was Donny's voice.

"Understand what?" He yelled heatedly over his now cold shoulder. There was no way they understood, understood the predicament of the world and the weight it left on his lone shoulders. "You understand nothing."

His gaunt continued un-phased into the cold dark night.

"We know about Trevor."

Leo's voice sounded from the now nearby distance. Although his voice was nothing more than a sound on the wind, it was still audible which made it just as powerful as the storm above.

Owen halted, his eyes growing wide as he absorbed the atmosphere around him.

"We know about Trevor." How?! Exactly how much did they know? He reached back into his past, starting at the beginning of this entire ordeal when he first met the evil vampire lord. Back then he was nothing more than a harmless acquaintance, to him and his family.

Or so he thought.

Now, nearly a millennium later, Trevor's two-faced influence still resided strongly on his soul, the hatred reigned presentably in his heart.

The anger was one of his only weaknesses, and it all began with _Trevor_.

So to hear that they knew about the red-haired _freak_ brought a shiver up his spine, and a cold steak in his soul; his secrets of weakness were unleashed.

How much did they know? How much did they know about his past?

Slowly he turned away from the empty road of solitude and back to the street filled with friends. He wasn't so sure how much they knew, or how much they thought they knew, but he did know that there was no turning back now. They knew too much.

Thus, making them just as obligated as he.

The waters journey down from the sky full-fledged now, wetting everything in it's path. Owen looked through the shower of rain droplet and to his friends just beyond.

With one statement alone, they had inescapably joined the loosing fight for mankind. Which, now that he thought about it, had been their fight all along.

Making them allies against the war within.

* * *

….._dies…just dies_ I don't know how I managed 'this' but I did. It nearly killed me, but I did. It's 5 in the morning…I have a busy schedule tomorrow, aka _today_, and there is no way I will be awake for it. The MOST you guys can do is review, lol. R and R, that's all I ask, and I will be a happy sleeping girl!

Oh, btw, it's all not over yet. A new chapter will be up ASAP!


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: …you heard me the first time…

…BOOGADY BOOGADY!

Chapter Three

Owen looked through the shower of rain droplets and to his friends just beyond.

With one statement alone, they had inescapably joined the loosing fight for mankind. Which, now that he thought about it, had been their fight all along.

Making them allies against the war within.

That had been two nights ago.

A lot has changed from that night of discovery and reckoning. So much, in fact, that the unforgettable moment under the pouring sky seemed to have been an eternity ago.

Nevertheless, it had been a turning point.

Upon entering the lair, the world had changed considerably for the turtles and their allied comrade, Owen Cromwell. For one thing, Donatello's training resumed almost as soon as they had walked into the lair.

And for good reason.

Levitation. Mind Linkage. Telekinesis. Mind Control.

All of it _had_ to be learned before the 'night of reckoning.'

Owen already knew how to put all of his powers to work, but if the only other Vampire on their team, newbie or not, didn't know his own powers as well he would be nothing more than a sitting duck ready for plucking amongst the great vampire resistance.

That is, unless, he was able to harvest his own powers.

Then and only then could he not be a weak-link, making him a worthy ally as well as a decent protector of his non-blood drinking family.

Meaning that now their safety could very well just lay in the hands of Donatello and his seasoned teacher.

Or at least, that's how Owen saw it. He knew that if Donatello couldn't control his own powers, other vampires could very well control them for him, making very _undesirable_ consequences. So, with the safety of Donatello and his family in mind as well as the protection of the entire world, Owen gave no leeway.

Meaning, that when it came to Donatello and his lessons, '_Relentless_' was Owen's middle name.

* * *

"Donatello, you must concentrate. Levitation is not something that can be achieved with a lack of focus."

"I am sorry, Owen. I will try harder."

""Trying" is not what I ask. Perfection is what I ask. I expect no less from you, Donatello. Do it again."

"Hai. Sensei, gomen nasai."

* * *

"Donatello, the act linking minds is an art. You are begin too awkward to be successful. Your presence in my mind must be nothing more than a breeze on the wind. Try it again." 

"…Yes Sensei. I will try again."

* * *

"Donatello, you must envision the object moving…and believe. You do have the power, just use it!" 

"…Hai…Yes Sensei…"

* * *

But overall, he noticed that his pupil was definitely flourishing, despite the rough circumstances. They spent hours engaging in the vampiric arts, only to see immediate results. With Donatello's determination and Owen experience as well as determination, they both began observing positive results on the first night and for every night to follow.

* * *

"You are getting better… Do it again."

* * *

"Very nice, Donatello. Have you been practicing without my knowledge?" 

"Yes, Sensei. Every waking moment."

"Good, as you should."

* * *

Indeed. But still, Donatello still had a long way to go.

Owen sighed, stepping out of the warmth of the family's home and into the dark iciness of the sewers beyond. He needed a break, even if it was for a few minutes. Before leaving he told his pupil that he could rest as well, but with a determination beyond anything Dontello had ever expressed prior to their sessions, he simply declined, choosing, instead, to continued his practices alone.

Of which, at the time, was telekinesis; the hardest of the vampric arts to learn (In reality, telekinesis and levitation were equally as hard, but if one was learned, the other was just a step away).

Nevertheless, he was determined.

But now Owen felt the need to withdraw, the pull of stress from the last few days finally catching up to him. With only twenty-four hours between then and the intended destruction of the end of the world as they knew it, there had been…repercussions. One of them being the lack of sleep for everyone!

The entire turtle team had gotten to work right after that night of investigation, each one of the turtles making it their immediate responsibility to be as prepared as possible for what was expected to come.

But the hard work and determination did have his strain, and Owen was not exempted.

Now he breathed in the cool air of the tunnels in self-reflection. He was tired, but he knew that he would not be able to rest for at least several more hours. They had exactly twenty-four hours now and the "vampire apocalypse" and if he could help it, those hours would be put to good use…

But for now, he needed a rest, his body all but telling him such. So, in response to his aches and pains, he walked deeper into the sewers and away from the home, well aware of his increasingly unfamiliar surroundings. Nevertheless, he continued, feeling confidence in his sense of direction as well as his ability to find his way back. Instead, his main focus was on his senses, at least keeping them alert while his mind gave way to his exhaustion. And because of that, his environment all but called out to him, painting a picture beyond anything his vision alone could possibly conjure.

Below him, the waters rustled lightly as they flowed their known paths. Sewer sewage as well as the dank soot of the streets above flowed through as well, their smells mingling toxically. Lucky for him the smells were not as…significant…as they should have been, the cold air from above seemingly masking anything especially horrid, thus, making the smells almost ignorable against the cold creep of the wintery nights. It seemed that just yesterday it was the beginning of autumn, as well as the turtle's lessons, only going to show exactly how fast time has pasted.

And how much things have changed.

His steps echoed lightly in the dark tunnels only to be drowned out as he got closer and closer to its opening. It seemed as though the tunnel he was traveling through lead to a junction of sorts if the roar just beyond was an indicator. However, and almost immediately upon hearing the water's rush did Owen sense something else.

Something more…subtle…but just as undeniable.

Someone was at the junction as well…

He almost tensed, but upon recognizing the being beyond, he relaxed, smiling a bit at the occurrence.

'What is he doing out here?' He mused, but approached nonetheless, turning the corner only to eye the turtle in question.

And the thing in his hand.

Owen approached the turtle, of whom was obviously caught up in his own musings, while watching the waterfall that was the junction itself. Below the both of them were a number of tunnels, their waters all leading to this same place. Quite a sight to see, actually, especially from this particular viewpoint. A single ledge above it all.

Definitely a good place to relax and let the water's currents control the mind…especially when that mind was muttered with worry and apprehension for the difficult and sticky hours to come. So, with a suddenly relaxed and an even playful ease, Owen made sure to alert the musing turtle of his presence, not really being up for subduing a frightened ninja. So instead of creeping along as he usually did he walked rather noisily as he approached the sitting turtle, of whom made no change in demeanor, but sensed the literally stomping vampire as soon as he came out of the tunnel. Owen even took the liberty of sitting down, allowing his legs to swing off of the ledge as did the turtle's. Even then, the turtle still said nothing, his face grave as he watched the dance of the waters below.

Therefore, and surprisingly not for the first time, Owen spoke up first.

"Nice view."

At his speech, the turtle only nodded, his voice nothing more than a note against the waters' song.

"Yeah, nice." Raphael responded evenly.

Owen smiled a bit at the lack of anything in the turtle's usually edged voice. Whatever he was thinking about, it definitely had the turtle deflated, leaving him here to watch the waters in contemplative silence.

And Owen couldn't blame him.

The turtles' world, in only two nights, had been uprooted from its neat little garden and thrown upside down into chaos, none of this could they even predict not to mention control. So, in reflection of all that had happened in such a short period of time, he allowed this moment of contemplating, knowing that if he was in their shoes, he would have wanted the same.

Therefore, Owen stopped conversation, allowing the silence to take them both over once more as their minds wandered to the situations at hand and as such Owen almost didn't realize that he was actually smoking until the turtle all but told him so.

"You know, that's bad for you." Raphael stated matter-of-factly. At first Owen blinked, not sure as to what the turtle was actually referring to…until he looked down at his hands. There, in his grip, was a burning stick of nicotine, lit unconsciously as well as smoked down to about half its original length, all without his notice. He didn't remember doing it, of course, but there between his fingers was the proof of his habit at its max. On automatic, he had fished out a stick as well as a lighter, lit it, replaced the lighter, and smoked the stick to its current length.

But as it was, Raphael should not be one to talk.

"As _that_ is for you."

Owen wasted no time, immediately pointing out the turtle's own faults in the form of the liquor the turtle currently held in his right hand. Although it was "disguised" with the clever cover of a paper bag, liquor was still liquor.

He could _smell _it.

And in response, the turtle only smiled clinically and grunted before taking a light swig of the alcohol in his grasp. Nevertheless, his eyes remained distant as if his mind still wandered as he watched the waters below. His right hand found its way back down to sit limp in his lap, the hard liquor loose in his grip. He knew Owen would have came back with something like that, but the quick-lipped Raphael was ready for him.

"But at least I'm not addicted." He smiled, his eyes leaving the scene of the running water only to watch Owen peripherally before going back to the waters' dance. Next to him, the vampire seemed to ruffle and the turtle's curt comeback, which, in turn, brought the turtle a bit of pleasure. As it was, it seemed as though he had struck a cord with the vampire which could only result in rather 'interesting' consequences.

"I am not an Addict."

Owen's cut throat response resonated against the walls of the reservoir only to drown into the sounds of the waters below. Nevertheless, it left Raph smiling at the irony of it all.

"Yes…you are." He stated, finally breaking his gaze to look Owen fully in the eye. Uneasily, Owen met his turtle's smirking face as well as his knowledgeable eyes, and frowned.

'He does not know me…so how can he judge me?'

Owen's expression soured as the turtle stood and ended the conversation, tossing the barely drunken bottle into the murkiness below before walking away altogether. For some reason Raphael suddenly didn't feel like drinking anymore…So with one last nod in the vampire's direction, Raph disappeared into the opening of the tunnel, the same tunnel Owen had appeared from only moments earlier.

Thus leaving Owen alone in the cool darkness of the sewer night, the waters' rush being the only sounds left to fill his ears.

Well, that and the sound of his own breathing.

Sourly, he turned back to the water, his eyes following their descents into the murky underworld.

How dare that turtle, making those kind of assumptions about something that just wasn't his business?

****

'Well, you did start it…'

'Oh shut up.'

He chided his antagonizingly truthful mind.

He _did_ start the whole thing, but only in jest. However, and just like the turtle he knew, Raph had somehow managed to turn the entire thing around on him. Instead of Owen chiding him for his sinful drinking, Raphael ended up chiding the vampire for equally sinful smoking…which only brought about a wave of self-consciousness that Owen never had to feel before.

He looked down and into his hand to glare at the offending stick. In response its smoke only seemed to wave up at him, mocking him in a poisonous smirk that marked his dependence.

Well, no more.

He did not need cigarettes to live, and for now on, he would not use them to live either.

Reaching into his pockets, he found the package he would have begged for only a month earlier, and with one more last glance at the camel that was his life Owen spewed the cigarettes, package and all, into the dark abyss below.

'No more will I let this control me, no more.'

He watched their descents into the darkness and gulped as his one and only physical weakness fell victim to the darkness' deadly churn.

Well, all except one.

The lit cigarette still smoked from his right hand, the ash on the end of it building as the flame moved closer and closer to the filter.

This was the last one.

After this cigarette there would be no more, which was exactly what he wanted.

So, with one last breath to the wind he tossed the sin stick into the waters to join its brothers, ridding his soul of the horrific demon forever.

Standing, he turned, walking away from the waters and into the tunnels without even giving the cigarette wielding waters so much as a second glance.

For now on, he would be clean of the cigarette's smut.

As he should be.

* * *

Donatello breathed, calming his mind and his body just as he had been instructed to before trying it once again. 

**'…Move…'**

Nevertheless, the spoon did not budge.

Right before Owen had left, he had insisted that Donatello should take a break to refresh himself a bit before getting back to work. After all it was the middle of the night. But just as stubbornly, Donatello had refused, choosing instead to continue the lesson without his, now, dark-haired teacher, or at least until that teacher came back.

However, a grumble in his belly as well as the dryness in his throat soon told him otherwise.

'Well…maybe a little break?…'

Standing from his lotus flower position, he stretched, wincing as he felt his shoulder and neck scream from being held in that subdued position for much too long.

'Yup, that break is looking better and better…'

Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen, passing the bedrooms as he went.

Mike's room. No doubt the turtle was in there, drawing a piece of snoring that the world would not want to see, though the thought did leave him smiling a bit. Ever since the 'incident' of two nights ago, Michelangelo's attitude on the entire thing went from apprehensive to absolutely gung-ho almost immediately upon entering the lair. However, it was not until the last few hours did Mikey finally calm down, not on the outside, but on the inside. The change was subtle, but it was there. It seemed as though Mikey was finally seeing the situation for what it was, all of the adventure as well as the instant danger, and it sobered him.

Not much, but again, enough to be noticeable…

But it wasn't as if he was the only one in the lair becoming apprehensive. Some already were.

Raphael, for instance, had been apprehensive since the very beginning. It seemed that the lack of Foot activity (Or in this case, the Foot altogether) left the fighter, the beast, within him unsatisfied, only to have it veer up at the opportunity to fight once again.

Donatello crept past this turtle's room, not really wanting to start anything unintentional with the possibly sleeping and usually angry turtle, but while sneaking past Donatello couldn't help but notice the door, of which, was opened, even if it was just a crack. Nevertheless, that in itself was very uncommon, the red banded turtle being known for putting his lock to good use at every opportunity available. However, upon peering inside, Donatello soon discovered why.

Raphael was not in his room.

"When does that guy sleep?"

Nevertheless, this was more normal than abnormal. Raphael was a night dweller, so much of one in fact that he could easily be considered 'vampire material.' But as it was, the fates chose Donatello instead…

Ironic, wasn't it?

With one last glance into the dark messy room, Donatello moved onward and closer towards his destination, but not before passing one more room on his left.

"_Warning,_ _Beware of Nerdz_"

His room. Of which, a sleeping beauty lay within.

He missed Centrice, badly. With all of the commotion around the lair as well as his own vigorous training, he hardly even saw her, except for at meals, but that wasn't nearly enough for him.

He contemplated going in there, even if he ended up laying next to her for only a few minutes, but his body told him otherwise. He needed nourishment, especially since as soon as Owen was back he would be excepted to get right back to work. Therefore, he could not indulge…not even for a minute.

'Later.' He promised himself.

With that thought he was able to pass by the room and finally find himself at the opening to the kitchen quarters, but not before looking beyond and to the two rooms on the other side of the entrance way. Further up and into the continued hallway were three doors, two of them being rooms. Leo's room lay to the right, detached from the clutter of brothers at the other end, which left him remotely isolated. Donatello didn't have to go in there to know his brother was sleeping. With the sort of energies Leonardo gave off nowadays, that much was already evident.

Leo seemed all but ready for the night to come.

But now, the brother in lead took decisive actions to prepare them all. As of that night of stakeout, practices had been substantially lengthened as well as more frequently held, instantly going from twice a day to three, maybe four times a day, tops. Over all though, Donatello could tell that the extra practices were held more to subdue Leo's own conscious thoughts of preparation, it being his way of coping with the rising heat of their situation. Leo, himself, though, never stopped practicing, always doing some sort of stance or some kata through-out their busy day. Even with the various planning and strategizing he had to do with Owen over what to expect, he still always found time for practice.

And for meditation.

With that last dismissive thought, Donatello's eyes went from that room to the last one in the lair.

Now this one he knew was empty.

Owen's room.

It seemed that with the growing apprehension, Owen took it the hardest. He still felt that he was in fault for getting them into this situation to begin with, so now he seemed to be redeeming himself by preparing them all the best he knew how. Constant meetings with Leonardo was one way, telling him all that he could about every aspect of the renegade vampires. He even practiced, but not with the group. Instead he would go into his room for hours only to come out sweaty from overworking himself. In the two days of waiting, Owen already got in at least twenty four hours of straight practicing between fitful rests, day time council and Donatello's lessons.

'How can he even see straight?'

Many times, Donatello wondered that to himself. Nevertheless, the vampire continued to operate with precision and clarity, his limits going way beyond anyone Donatello ever was associated with. Therefore, the turtle let the issue go. Besides, Owen was the sort that never liked to be pointed out, and would rather being left alone with his life. That was probably why Owen chose to practice in his room, instead of in the dojo along with the others. He strived to keep it separated from his life with the turtles, it possibly being the only thing he had for himself at that point. That _would_ explain why even though the vampire had been under their roof top for almost a month now, not a single one of them had ever seen him even lift his sword, even though they all knew that he practiced with it every night, and now, every hour.

He was still a mystery…still a stranger. But a close stranger, making him a close friend.

Donatello blinked from his random stare at Owen closed door, shaking his head slightly as if to shake the stray thoughts from his mind as he finally made his way through the arched opening that lead to the dormant kitchen.

'I really do need a break…food is always good for the system, or at least, that's what Mikey says, heh.'

And as such, he indulged, quickly filling his gut with well needed nourishment. One warmed up blood pack and slice of pizza later, Donatello burped lightly.

'Well, time to go back to the dojo. Maybe I can get a few minutes in before…'

And then he saw it.

The spoon that could change it all…

So, there he stands now, working his mind as well as all of his strength.

Only to lift the spoon to no prevail.

'Alright…lets try this again. Remember what Owen taught you. Relax. Think. And…**believe**."

Blinking away his thoughts, he concentrated all that he had on the single spoon, focusing all of his new founded powers on its silver entity. If he could just do this, he would be as good as 'in.' Everyone knows that if one can achieve telekinesis or levitation (those two acts alone being the hardest things a vampire could achieve) then he could do anything.

Anything.

The world would be opened to him, his power at his finger tips plus the ability to control it. He would be able to work side by side with Owen, but _only_ if he could perfect this one thing.

And at the moment, that one thing seemed utterly impossible.

**'Come on spoon, move damnit!'**

Cranking up the heat, he gave it his all, only to be disturbed by a heavy chuckle from elsewhere in the room.

"Oh man, Donny. You better quit or you're gonna pop an artery. But seriously though, good try. I _almost _saw it move."

He didn't even need to turn around. He already knew who it was. Twenty-two years of living with the guy virtually made him 'smellable.'

"Ha, ha. Very funny Raph."

Don's voice was dry as he glared lightly over his shoulder, which only seemed to amuse the red-banded turtle even more. With a chuckle, Raphael approached his kid brother, ruffling his bandana as he passed him and headed towards the fridge. Scowling, the purple turtle adjusted his now 'purple' vision, fixing his eyeholes as he adjusted the bandana back into its rightful position. He had just gotten them back into their rightful places just in time to watch Raph plop down into one of the old wooden chairs at the table. Wasting no time, the red turtle took a heavy swig of his…water?

"Since when have you started drinking water?"  
"Since when have you started smelling like Mikey?"  
Smiling good-naturedly, Donatello sniffed at himself before responding just as curtly.

"Hey, I don't stink, so you can just shove it!"

He playfully swiped at his brother's head before plopping down in a seat as well. It seemed that Raphael's little 'night out' left him in good spirits, and for once, not drunk.

Both, of which, was a miracle.

"So, what brought about this sudden change of spirits? And, really, what's with the water? Did you have an epiphany or something?"

Donatello kept his gaze on his brother as he gulped down the water and crushed it in his fist. Just as quickly as he had come in, the turtle stood, tossing the now mangled plastic into the trash before heading for the bedrooms.

"Something like that Donny, something like that…"

Donatello blinked after his brother's departure, left more confused than anything else. With a sigh, he rubbed at his head, musing lightly about over could have gotten into his brother, only to have that same brother poke his head back around the corner.

"Oh, and don't tell Leo! I don't want him getting all… 'Raph you've finally listened to me!' and junk. Ok?"

Raph waited as Don rolled his eyes.

"Who would want that?"

Flashing a grin the dark turtle beamed…or at least, did the Raphael version of a beam, which, somehow, still managed to look sinister.

"Thanks Donny, I owe ya one!"

And with that he was gone, finally retiring for the night like the mortal he was.

Donatello sighed, allowing his smile to diminish as his good humor dissolved into that of silent contemplation as he observed the still spoon once more.

Might as well give it one more go.

'**Ok…lets try this again…Moooovvveeeeee!!! I swear on my Bo that if you don't move I'm gonna get Mikey to use you!…Oh yes, the ultimate torture…**

However, and once more, his concentration was utterly broken by a small fit of subdued chuckles. This time the chuckles weren't as immediately recognizable as Raph's, but just as amused.

"Really, Donatello. You shouldn't strain so hard. You might burst an artery."

Owen's chuckles subsided, however, as he finally got back to business.

"Come on. It is time to continue the lessons."

His face sobered and hardened as he fell back into the role of 'teacher' and in response Donatello had no other choice but to obey, bowing slightly as his teacher brushed past him and into the hallway beyond. Sighing, he followed. It seemed as though his break was officially over, and with good timing…

He didn't want to move the spoon anyways.

Before leaving the room however, he couldn't resist throwing his adversary one last and final glare.

"I'll see _you _in the morning, Mikey-bait."

* * *

"I'm sorry you guys, but I was so tired I didn't make breakfast. I hope you guys like cereal!" 

Mikey all but emphasized his suggestion by taking a huge bite of his own cereal.

"Mmm, yummy yum yums!"  
  
"Mikey. Sit down and shut up."

"Oh. Morning Raph!"

It seemed as though Raph's reign of good cheer was over.

The red-banded turtle scowled in return before snatching up one of the cereal boxes and poring its contents uncaringly into the bowl in front of him. Meanwhile, Donatello munched on his own cereal as he observed quietly, exploring his own powers all the same.

As it was, the only one he could really use his powers on was the vampire across the table. During their sessions in practice Owen had all but said that Donatello could use him as a practice dummy, if not for the practice then for the assistance. In other words, Don could use his powers on Owen because Owen could tell him what he was doing wrong.

So with one last free breath, Donatello concentrated. On the outside he made sure to keep his appearance as normal as possible, his hand on his spoon, his head down as if looking into his bowl. But on the inside, specifically, in his mind, he focused all of his energies into one entity before reaching out with his mind and into the mind of the vampire across the table. And in response the vampire only smirked.

****

'Yes Donatello?'

Owen's smirk grew as he watched the turtle look up from his bowl of cereal and straight into Owen's eyes.

****

'So…what's up?' Don asked. He really didn't have anything in particular he had wanted to share with Owen. Mainly he just wanted to see if he was able to achieve the mind linkage outside of the dojo, a.k.a., outside of practice itself.

And so far the answer was yes.

****

'Oh, nothing much. Today after breakfast we will have to work on your telekinesis skills. I've observed that you have been struggling with it. I can tell. So today instead of going through everything, we will just focus on that. How does that sound?'

Despite his mind's conversation, Owen's demeanor was completely normal, eating his cereal in silence as he spoke with his mind. Out of curiosity, Donatello peaked at his brother's faces, seeing if there was any sort of change in their demeanor, and since there was none he knew that their conversation was truly private.

And he couldn't help but smile.

****

'That sounds good actually…'

That morning's incident ran through his head. He frowned.

That stupid spoon.

It was then that he turned to Michelangelo, not really expecting anything of him. But the threat he had given to the infidel of a spoon brought Mikey to mind. However, almost as soon as he looked at his younger brother he busted out into a wide grin.

There, in Michelangelo's hand, was the spoon, the very _same_ spoon in fact. And just like he had threatened, Michelangelo was using the spoon for breakfast.

****

'Ha ha! I win, Spoon. I win. And the next time you choose to mess with me, choose your battle carefully, infidel. Or you will suffah the consequences!…Oh yeah…Raphael's bandana drawer…Oh the justice!'

He would have continued with his string of threats but it was then that he noticed that the spoon's journey to his brother's mouth had stopped completely. A drop of milk and Captain Crunch fell from the frozen spoon as it was held in mid-air. Confused, Donatello "backed up" a bit. Instead of focusing his attention on the spoon he focused it on the brother holding it.

And finally saw why the spoon had stopped moving.

Michelangelo was watching him, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping as the spoon that was halfway to his mouth stayed…well…half way to his mouth.

Michelangelo had frozen in his tracks.

Donatello quickly scanned the table, realizing that they _all_ had frozen, actually. And, to top it all off, all of their eyes were wide and on him…

"Dude, what the hell?!!"

Raphael's exclamation was interrupted by Centrice's curt and unmerciful giggling.

"Oh man! That was good Donny. That was good." She held her gut as she giggled like mad, her eyes closing amidst her hysterics.

To say that Donatello was confused, though, would have been a rash understatement.

"Wha-"

His brows furrowed for a fraction of a second before the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him slouched down into his chair, his cheeks burning like never before.

It seemed that after he finished 'chatting' with Owen, that he forgot to turn "off" the mind-speak, and instead, broadcasted his thoughts to the entire table.

Causing him to grow red with embarrassment.

Softly chuckles admitted from the table as Leo, Mike and finally Raphael joined in with the laughter. Owen, instead of chuckling, just smiled in amusement before resuming his breakfast, as did the rest of the table. There was a relative silence as the eating at the table resumed, one of which that lasted for several minutes. That is until one of the turtles chose that time to address their brother in purple.

"Donny, I would like it if you joined us for practice this morning."

Donatello looked up only to see his eldest brother watching him expectedly and with realization of what Leo was implying, it was his turn to freeze. Usually, after breakfast was Owen and Donny's lessons, Donatello meeting Owen in his room where they would work on the mind aspects of the things he was trying to achieve. But now, if he went with his brothers, it would interfere with their scheduled and needed lessons.

In other words, it would be like stepping on Owen's toes.

Not really sure as to what to say, Donatello eyed his vampire _Sensei_, and was not at all surprised to see the non-too-pleased expression on his cold features.

"But what about my lessons?"

Leo smiled a bit, knowing that the question would come sooner or later, and instead of addressing his brother directly, he turned to the experienced vampire at the other side of the table as he spoke.

"Actually, I was hoping that Owen would join us as well."

Well, that was unexpected. Donatello blinked, turning to his teacher as well, as did the rest of the table.

All of them awaiting the vampire's answer.

Owen soaked in his onlooker's gazes, his face like stone as he mused over the invitation. He never practiced with them before, and never stopped to watch them practice either. However, he had to say that the invitation did make sense. In less than twenty-four hours they would all fight together as a team, so it made complete sense for them to know each other's fighting style beforehand, his own being a mystery to the turtles, and theirs, less of a mystery, but still relatively a mystery to him.

So there it was, the perfect opportunity all laid out for him all he had to do was…

"Yes. I would love to."

A shock resonated through the table, starting at Donatello and ending all the way back to the turtle leader himself. Leo really wasn't expecting Owen to accept, although he did think it would have been nice if he did.

However, when Owen did accept, Leo did have to admit his heart jumped, the giddy child within him jumping around in excitement.

'I wonder what style he uses? And that sword! How does he wield it? Does he use the same stances? Does he know martial arts with it or just fighting techniques? Is it-'

'Oh, quiet you. Patience is a virtue, learn some.'

On the outside through, Leo only smiled before going back to his now soggy cereal.

"I look forward to seeing you there."

* * *

He still couldn't believe it, but it was real, no matter how surreal it seemed. 

There they were in the dojo, all of them kneeling to their brother in blue, all of it routine except for the fact that the dark-haired vampire was kneeling as well. Nevertheless, Leo's voice cut through the dojo like a knife as he explained today's activities.

"Today we will conduct an 'Elimination' spar session. You guys need to sharpen up on your fighting techniques so consider this as a practice for tonight. I want you all to give it your all, no holding back. Got it?"

Leo's voice was that of a pure authority that left everyone under that voice nodding in agreement.

Even Owen.

Out of the corner of his eye, Donatello could just make out the shape of his thin-framed teacher, of which he knew was sitting cross-legged on the floor just like the rest of them. And just like the rest of them, he listened to Leo's instructions, paying attention and obeying when the opportunity presented itself, like now.

"You all, stay on the sidelines. The first round will be Raphael vs. Michelangelo. They shall come to the center. Let the fight commence!"

Almost as soon as the words had left his beak, Donatello and Owen obeyed and stayed sitting this one out as Raphael and Michelangelo stepped into the center of the dojo as instructed, ready and battle-stanced. At the word 'commence' the battle began.

And as it was, Raphael wasted no time.

With his _sai_ pointed outward he made a running leap for the turtle in orange, flipping through the air with deadly precision. Nevertheless, Michelangelo was ready for him. His chucks spun wildly as he blocked the oncoming barrage of attacks.

However, it was then that Donatello began to lose interest. The fight commenced, but he was no longer paying attention. Instead, his thoughts flowed elsewhere…

Specifically, to Centrice.

She was not allowed to participate in today's sparing session, mainly because she was not going to be joining them on their mission tonight, but that was not the only reason.

The other?

She was not skilled enough to handle a pure sparring session, as in, one in which the turtles would not be holding back.

That was the real reason she was kept out of today's activities. They all secretly feared that she might get hurt. She was not pleased, of course, her feelings on the subject making themselves known in the only way she seemed to know how. Through argument that, this time, that lasted a full five minutes. This time the argument had been between her and Leonardo, him arguing that she should sit this one out and her arguing the fact that she could handle herself. In the end, though, Leonardo did get his way but only after Donny intervened and 'sweet-talked' Centrice out of her temper tantrum and into their room.

And even then, she was still left grumbling.

Nevertheless, she retreated to the room, which was where she probably still stayed, too angry to stay, but to "obedient" to go. She was waiting for him, mostly just to give him a piece of her mind in private, but even then, those discussions always ended the same way.

Heavy make-out session, galore.

He smiled a bit. It was always like Centrice to play it tough, stubborn as a mule and twice as mean when she wanted to be. But then she always backed down, melting to Donatello's will. He knew that she loved and respected him beyond anything else, which was one of the main reasons he would intervene whenever she got into a spat with one of his brothers.

Because he knew that she would always buckle to him…never right away, of course, but still, it would happen.

However, now he couldn't help but reach out to her with his mind, not in speech necessarily, but just, in sense. His mind flowed back to his room and to the woman of his dreams, of whom was now laying on his bed in a light slumber. He sensed that her apprehension had diminished considerably, but she was still rather annoyed over the whole thing. He smiled wider, she was reacting just like he thought she would.

But it was ok, he would fix everything when he got back to his room. He already figured out how. The pain, he noticed, she had been experiencing in her shoulder was definitely calling his name. He would take care of it.

It was then that his mind set was suddenly broken, the turtles before him ending the raging battle as one of the bulky forms was thrown to the ground and pinned by a _sai_ to his throat. Donatello looked up to confirm the victor and nearly gaped in response. Holding the dangerously poised _sai _was not Raphael, but instead his adversary, Michelangelo. Somehow he had gotten it out of Raphael's grip and in a sudden turn of battle, was using the pronged weapon against its owner, ending the battle with that move alone. At that moment Donatello almost cursed in amazement. That must have been one seriously _lucky_ move! Definitely a once in a lifetime predicament. Donatello was almost angry that he had missed it! Nevertheless, the battle was over, Leonardo saying as much in his solemn exclamation.

"Victor. Michelangelo."

Raphael grudgingly picked himself off of the ground as Michelangelo all but grinned down at him. Snatching his sai from the turtle's grasp, he scowled.

"Lucky shot."

Nevertheless, he moved to the sidelines, belting both of his weapons as he did. Well, it wasn't _too_ bad. From here he would have a great view of when Michelangelo got his face smeared into the mat in the next battle, no matter who it was against…

"Next round. Michelangelo vs. Donatello…"

Oh yeah, this was gonna be good.

"Let the fight commence!"

Before Donatello could even react, Michelangelo was all over him, his chucks weaving expertly as their blunt ends attacked full force. Donatello had barely gotten his _bo _staff out to block them, but he did. And the battle ended there.

Before Mikey could even pull back from his attacks, Donatello was already in the air, flipping overhead only to land behind the turtle in orange.

Michelangelo did turn to face the turtle in purple, but by then, it was already too late.

One, two, three times he was hit, once in both arms, and once at his heals, leaving him on his shell and his arms burning in immobilizing pain.

'Aw man…Pressure points…that bastard!'

Nevertheless, with Michelangelo's hands rendered basically deadweights, it all but sealed Donatello's victory.

"Victor. Donatello."

Donny beamed, flashing an impish grin at his brothers while leaning on his _bo _in satisfaction. However, and as it was, he was not the only one satisfied.

"Ha! Donny wiped the floor with you! I saw it all, you were dead before it even started."

Mikey frowned as he sat, his hands still tingly from the blow to their circulations, but still he managed a comeback of his own.

"Nice _sai_."

"Why you little! I gonna kill you mysel-"

"Next Round. Doantello vs. Owen"

Donny's smile melted into a scowl of determination as his body fell heavily into stance. Slowly, the opponent vampire stood, noting all of the eyes that followed him to the center of the dojo as he took his stand.

"Can I request no weapons in this round?"

His voice was cool and calculated as he asked his question, and with a sideways glance Donatello noted that Owen had purposely left sword on the sidelines.

Leo's voice rung out in the silent dojo in an immediate response.

"Fighting technique, hand to hand combat. Donatello, dispose of your weapon."

Falling out stance, Donatello immediately obeyed, sending his _bo_ to the sidelines to join Owen's sword. Weaponless, he fell into stance accordingly, his face becoming just as determined as before. Personally, he was glad that Owen choose not to use his weapons as of yet, and just hand-to-hand. Never had he seen Owen wield his sword, and personally, he didn't want to be the one he wielded it on. So, thankfully, he threw his _bo _to the ground, falling, instead, into a weaponless stance.

And as soon as that was over with, the battle began promptly there after.

"Let the fight commence!"

There was a heavy silence from the sidelines as well as from the turtle in the middle as Owen just stood there, his head bowed and his hands limp at his sides.

No one moved. No one blinked. No one even breathed.

Moments passed, and still nothing. Seconds ticked by, turning into minutes…which turned into an eternity, and still the black-haired vampire did not move.

However, it took only a few moments before the onlooker Michelangelo finally grew restless.

'Come on, this isn't a fight, it's a stare down!…And a poor one at that…"

Nevertheless, he wasn't the only one losing interest.

"Is it me, or did this fight go cold before it even began."

Raphael's hushed voice flowed into his ear as his brother whispered to him, and in response, the turtle in orange only shrugged.

In his ear, his brother continued.

"I just know something better happen soon, or I'm jumping in myself."

At that, Michelangelo nodded, keeping his eyes on the battle, the fear of looking away and missing something much greater than the boredom that stirred in his gut. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but agree with his hot-headed brother.

"Same here. I don't know how much of this sitting around I can take…"

Meanwhile the two competitors remained in still silence, Donatello's stance still cut and poised, Owen's loose stature still lax and downward. From Don's angle, it was hard to tell if the elder vampire's eyes were still even open. The hair in his face caused heavy shadows over his eyes and upper face while leaving his chin, mouth and nose exposed to the light. And even then, it was impossible to tell since his mouth was drawn into a thin line which gave nothing away.

To the outside world, Owen could have been dead, or at least, that was the way it looked. Nevertheless, with Owen's lack of motion came Donny's lack of motion, but as it was, and like his brothers, he could only take so much…

'…That's it…'

With one single grunt, Donatello was in motion, resultantly startling the entire crowd of onlookers as the battle suddenly came to an abrupt start.

A rather one-sided start, but still, a start.

Owen still remained motionless, his head remaining down until Donatello was only a heart beat away.

And as such, it was then that his lips finally curled up and into a smirk…

Leaping into the air, Owen suddenly sprang to life, his eyes glowing lightly as he gave it his all. Donatello only had time to widen his own eyes before receiving a blow to the face as Owen leapt up and kicked him square in the jaw. Donatello flew, but not far, righting himself mid-skid only to spring back into action, his own eyes glowing lightly as if suddenly becoming awakened as well. From there, the battle viciously raged onward, leaving their onlookers in it's dust.

"Since when does a fight go from freezing cold to 'too hot for the kitchen?'"

In battle, Donatello turned, kicking off of the ground from his third harsh landing of the day and back into a stand, facing his opponent once more. Owen wasted no time in sending his fist up, his intent to give Donatello a hard uppercut, but at the last second, Donatello grabbed his arm, sending the elder vampire off to the side with a sudden turn of his body. The vampire skidded for a second or too, mostly just to collect his bearings before flipping from the skid and back into stance, only to attack the turtle once more.

"I don't know." Mikey responded, addressing his brother in red once more. "Why don't you ask those two."

Donatello grunted as he was thrown, his shell hitting the brick wall with a loud crack. In usual circumstances, that alone would not have ended the sparring cession, but with Owen's hand at his throat only a microsecond later, it was a different issue altogether.

One jab with his hand, and Donny would be dead.

Thus, ending the spar altogether.

Owen had just began to help Donatello up as Leo's definitive voice rung out in the dojo.

"Victor. Owen."

"Good match, comrade."

"You weren't too bad yourself, Owen."

With more of a smile than anything else Donatello stepped to the sidelines to join his brothers, both of which he noticed, grew increasingly quiet as he stepped up to them. Actually, by the time he reached them there was an absolute silence between them, their conversation ending as soon as Donatello had gotten close enough to hear.

With the way they were looking at him, their gazes seemed to be a bit more…fearful than anything he was used to. Thus, it made him grow increasingly uncomfortable…

"…Do you mind if I sit here?"

Donatello was mildly surprised when both turtles scooted over, immediately making more than enough room for him between them.

"You're a damn vampire, dude. You can sit where ever the hell you want."

Donatello blinked a few times before smirking in recognition. He almost apologized for his hesitation, but when he looked at them he realized that he didn't have to.

When he looked at them, he saw respect, which was definitely something he could get used too.

However and as it was, before he could even completely sober up, before he had even sat all the way down, the heat in the dojo went from hot to scorching as the next and final two competitors stood to meet each other in the middle of the now silent dojo.

"Championship match. Owen vs…Me."

Leo stepped to the middle of the circle, his eye narrowing at the giant challenge that stood before him. Owen was stronger, faster, and more powerful than he was, a challenge if there ever was one.

But he was up for it.

He fell into stance, weaponless, but got startled out of it when Owen, instead of falling into his own "stance" as well, moved to the sidelines to retreat and unsheathe his sword. It gleamed menacingly in the light as he brought it up and out into the center of the dojo.

Leo smirked lightly.

"So am I correct to assume this will not be hand-to-hand?"  
Owen moved to the center, falling into stance with his sword. He held the hilt with his right hand only to have the 'down-bladed' blade curve widely around and hook back just enough for its needle like point to meet Owen at his left heel. Leo blinked. Never before had he seen a sword like that, and for a few moments it left him in slight awe. Again the question arose in his mind. _'How does he use it? It looks as if it's nearly impossible for him to wield it without skewering himself.' _Nevertheless, Owen still wielded it, and like him Leonardo drew his weapons as well. The "_shwing_" of his twin katana blades echoed in the pin drop silence of the dojo as they, too, were unsheathed.

Leaning down ever so slightly, Leonardo fell into stance as well, his frown turning into that of a determined scowl before crossing the swords before him in the ultimate battle readiness.

His voice was no more than a determined growl as he recited the words he knew would begin one of the hardest matches in his twenty-two years of life.

"Let the fight commence!"

* * *

"Oh, you should have been there Cent', it was the most heart pumping battle I have ever witnessed! I mean, just, wow! Personally, I didn't even know Leo had it in him."

Silence.

"They were everywhere! Oh man, it was good! Owen's sword was outrageous though, but man he sure can use it!"

Donatello's excited rant gave way to the dead silence that filled his room. Behind him he knew Centrice was either ignoring him or just not responding. Either way, it meant that she was not please. Nevertheless, and at that moment Donatello really couldn't help himself, and kept talking.

"But it was when Owen and Leo pushed away from each other that last time, I was sure it would be over, just not sure who would win. Lucky for the both of them that Owen called it a tie. They were truly pretty evenly matched even though Owen definitely had the advantage. Maybe it was just Leo's spirit that kept him in the match. Whatever it was, it worked, I can tell you that!"

Sighing, Donatello leaned back on his bed, his head hitting the pillow lightly as he finally looked his girlfriend in the face, of whom was also sitting on the bed, but at the edge of it.

And just as he suspected, she was none-too-please.

"Well, maybe if I was there to see it, I would 'appreciate' it more." She breathed from behind crossed arms. And in response, Donatello only grinned.

He knew she would be that way.

Sitting up, he watched her, his head tilting as he grinned impishly at her.

At his stare, she only eyed him for a second before frowning even more. She wanted to ignore him but was finding it increasingly difficult with the way he was watching her.

Finally she dropped her hands, and just gave in.

"What?"

"You are so predictable, you know that?" He ginned.

She couldn't help but smile a bit as his antics, but still managed to keep her arms crossed in more mock anger than real anger. Nevertheless, she managed to keep her frown as she responded.

"Oh really? Well, predict this!"

Shoving both hands into his face, she pushed him back and onto his shell, meanwhile effectively "wiping" the smile off of his face.

Only to have it replaced by a sudden and unexpected laugh at her larks.

He knew she wasn't _that _upset, and besides, she must have been missing him just as much as he was her for when he did manage to sit up again her frown was gone, and instead, her eyes danced in amusement as her mouth curled upward into a smirk.

That was as good an invitation as any. Closing the gap between him and her, he kissed her sweetly and enjoyed the mingling of their breaths and the pleasure she gave him. Meanwhile, he adjusted his body to sit behind her which resulted in her bending her neck rather awkwardly to kiss him, but he fixed that by breaking the kiss altogether. Her eyes were curious as he place his hands on her shoulders.

"Donny, what are you do-"

"Shh." He whispered into her neck, kissing the flesh tenderly as he kneaded at her aching shoulders. He never forgot about them upon seeing her rubbing her shoulders that one time. He just never got a chance to try and take care of it until now.

And as it was, it seemed as though he was right in time.

She instantly seemed to go limp under his skillful hands, the pain in her shoulders melting away as he expertly manipulate the muscles under the skin. It made sense. With his _Ninjitsu_, he was required to know the body well, pressure points definitely being a big part of bringing someone down in the fewest moves possible. But that didn't mean his knowledge could _only_ be used to maim…

And no one knew that better than the now liquidized Centrice.

"Oh Donny….Please, don't stop!" She panted, half joking but half serious. She knew that her request must have sounded very questionable from the other side of the door, but she didn't care.

Right now, all she cared about was his hands and his mouth, both of which were working miracles.

And his mind, which made sure to intertwine with her own as well.

****

'Oh, I wasn't planning on it…'

With a squeeze of her shoulders he deepened the kiss he had on her neck, enjoying the moan that escaped her as he opened his senses, allowing his mind to mingle and flow even more openly with her own.

And what he found there could've make any turtle blush, but right now, he was thinking about the same thing.

Slowly, he moved farther down her neck as his hands began to travel down as well. She gasps has his hands began to move, closing her eyes and tilting her head even more to allow him more room on her neck to suckle on.

Of which, he immediately took advantage of.

In no time the sound of her panting echoed in his ear which stirred something in his gut, but that was all it got to do for as soon as he had her right where he wanted her his mind was immediately interrupted by a foreign but painfully familiar voice.

**'Donatello, you are need. I recommended you report to the den as soon as possible.'**

Scowling he backed off, leaving her panting in his wake. 

"Wh-wha-…."

"Being a vampire _bites_!"

Fuming, Donatello ignored the obvious pun and instead, rustled off of and away from the bed, his burning desire instantly squelching at Owen's voice in his head. Centrice blinked as Donatello seemed to go from 'in the mood' to 'Mr. Angry Giant Turtle' in mere microseconds.

And she couldn't say she wasn't confused.

"Donny?"

Just as suddenly as it had it had begun and ended, it seemed to start again as Donatello brought her body to his, catching her in an earth shattering kiss as his mind all but portrayed the desire he had for her, only to leave her panting and slightly dizzy when he pulled away.

"Owen's calling me, says that 'I am needed' for something." He explained as he caught his breath while eyeing her. She blushed from under his gaze, literally knowing of what he would definitely prefer to be doing instead of answering Owen's call as he kept his mind-linked with hers. Nevertheless, they both knew he had to go.

**'We'll finish this later…'** He growled into her mind, causing her to whimpered in her throat in return, the desire that resonated off of him as well as the caress of his mind on hers made her dizzy and weak all over again.

'I'll be waiting.'

And with that, the turtle was gone. Centrice nearly collapsed in response, but managed not to. Instead she just fell onto the bed into a sit and then into a lay as she reflected on what had just happened to her.

With no more than a kiss and a massage, Donatello had literally rocked her world, knocking her legs right out from under her.

And she liked it.

'Whoa…This vampire stuff sure does have a lot more…'attributes' than they give credit for. I wonder how it will be tonight?'

The thought left her whimpering. If it was anything like what happened just now, she knew she was in for something beyond anything she had ever experienced.

It seemed that with Donny's 'transformation' came another transformation, not only from Donatello the Turtle to Donatello the Vampire, but from Donatello, a sex god, to Donatello: _The _sex god!  
  
And as it was, she _definitely _liked the change.

* * *

Donatello stormed out of his room, his eyes literally on fire as he approached the den. 

Leonardo, and Owen looked up at him in mild surprise at his sudden entrance.

"What." He stated more than asked, his body language all but expressing his discontentment, leaving them blinking in response.

"Well someone needs to lay off of the blood packs, geez. It's makin' ya a little 'nippy' there Don. Ha ha!"

Michelangelo nudged his edgy brother as he entered as well, closely followed by his smirking other brother, Raphael. It seemed that, as it was, the both of them had witnessed Donny's little "attitude" from the kitchen's entrance way.

Although his face did grow a little warm, he ignored it. Instead, he crossed his arms as he frown, which showed that he was not laughing with them.

Mikey, of course, caught the hint late, his laughter continuing until finally observing his brother's face of stone. At that his laugh suddenly faltered, changing instead into a barrage of mock coughs before finally responding.

"Man, did it get hot in here, or is it just me…Leo, what did you want to see us about?"  
Mikey wisely and skillfully changed the subject, and Don had to say that he was pleased. He wasn't in the mood for talking. The less time he spent in here meant more time in more…desirable situations…

Meanwhile, Leonardo finally began since it seemed that everyone was there and accounted for.

Well, everyone that would be participating in the mission that is…

"Good, looks like we're all here, so lets get down to business. Here are copies of the blueprints for the AVTech building."

Leo stood, grabbing up a stack of paper and handed a small paper-clipped stack to each one of the brothers, Owen, and left one for himself.

"Now since it is this building we shall be protecting, Owen and I believe that it is essential that we should at least know our way around. So our assignments for tonight are as follows. Each one of you will make it your duty to know this building, inside-out. Every tunnel, every window, every crevice. We will be on home turf, or as close to it we can get. God only knows it will probably be our only advantage…"

Slowing down, Leo eyed the papers he held his hand as well as his brothers as he picked up on their feelings before they even did.

Donatello did not move, but soaked in the information like a sponge while holding the papers in his still crossed arms.

Meanwhile, Raphael grimaced, but was still silent.

This time Leo was right, these papers would be their only advantage.

However, the only one to actually speak up against it, or actually speak up at all, was the turtle in orange, his groan filling the room before Leo had even finished speaking.

"Yes Mikey, do you have something to add?" Leo asked knowledgably. He knew what was coming…

"This bites! Homework, Leo? Homework?!" Mikey emphasized his complaint with a shake of the seemingly gigantic stack of papers. There was no way he would even be able to _read_ them in one night, not to mention _memorize _them. But at this, Leo only smirked, lifting a single hand to quiet his younger brother before smiling a bit himself.

"Well Mikey, it's not as if you're the only one. We all have to go over these papers…" With a sigh, he eyed his own stack. "Even me."

At that Mikey blinked before growing downhearted at the load of work before him. However, from the corner of his eye he was able to make out Owen's slightly troubled expression a well.

"What's the matter, O.' I thought you worked here. Don't tell me you don't know your own workplace."

Michelangelo was more teasing than serious, but as it was Owen took him for solemn, giving a somber response in return. With a sigh, he flipped through the papers, only to realize that most of the blueprints were as unfamiliar to him as these sewers.

"You would be surprised…Actually, it looks as if I will have quite a deal of 'homework' to do as well." With that he nodded towards Leonardo, of whom, nodded back before addressing the rest of the team.

"Right. So, due to the 'familiarizing' we all should do with these paper, this afternoon's practice has been canceled."

At this, Michelangelo couldn't help but grin, a night without practice was almost _worth_ the paperwork…almost.

But as it was, Leonardo was not completely finished.

"However, this" Leo waved the stack in his hand, "brings about another dilemma. Owen and I realize that it is rather unpredictable for all of us to actually memorize _every _aspect of this building so we've decided that we should also have a back up plan in the form of an outside man..."

It was at that moment that Centrice stepped out of the hallway as she listened in, not choosing to join them in the den but choosing to listen from the kitchen instead.

However, Leonardo saw her, which gave him another idea.

"Or woman…Centrice do you thin-"

"Actually," She interrupted. She had heard the entire idea and problem and, as it was, had found a few issues with it as well. "If I were to be the 'outside man' it still would be just as unpredictable. I mean, there no way I can memorize all of that in a few hours either. And even if I used the papers as reference, flipping through the papers one-by-one would not be efficient enough for this sort of mission anyways."

Leonardo nodded, understanding her reasoning completely. He was just about to turn back to address the group, when Centrice choose that moment to continue.

"No, what we need is someone that knows the building already…possibly someone that works ther-ah never mind."

Owen shot her a warning glance which quelled the girl instantly, or that is, until she got another idea…

"What about someone that actually helped build it. Who were the architects?"

At her question she got nothing but dull looks in return, all of the males in the den thinking the exact same thing.

"Why would any architect help us?! What are we gonna do? Knock on their doors and ask? 'Hey, were on a secret mission to save the world. Do you think you can spare a night out of your busy schedule and-"

"Enough Raph!"

Donatello cut off his ranting brother and came to his girlfriend's defense.

"It may not be the most plausible idea, but it's the best we've had so far." He admitted, looking down into the paper's in his grasp for the answer to his girlfriend's question.

"It says here that the building was built by a family company, the two main architects being brothers, Daniel and Donald Homestead and the assistant architect being their younger brother, Mikal. Mikal Homestead."

Centrice blinked at that new bit of information, the names slowly processing themselves at their uncanny familiarity.

Meanwhile, Raphael scoffed at the list of meaningless names.

"See! How are we going to search for three people who probably don't even exist anymore. They could be dead or-"

"Says here their home town is Detroit." Donatello pointed out, literally pointing to the paper at the same time. "And the building isn't _that_ old Raphael. It's only about twenty, twenty five years old. There's a very good possibility that they are still very much alive."

Donatello analyzed the information aloud, but that still didn't quell his brother's skepticism. Nevertheless, he was not swayed, his brute stubbornness not allowing any other emotion to give way.

That is until the quiet, hesitant voice of the still Centrice broke the argument as well as their perceptions.

"What if…I told you…I know where the third brother is?…" She asked, finally stepping into the den at the hesitant inquiry. This earned her not only all of their stares, but a silence that had not been felt since in the battle in the dojo. Nevertheless, it was cleverly interrupted my Michelangelo's disbelieving exclamation.

"What cha' talkin' bout, Cent' piece?"

At his voice, she turned to Michelangelo, her eyes serious and slightly contemplative before addressing the rest of the clan with a newly founded conviction, as if her mind had just accepted what she already knew.

"I know the younger brother." She stated simply. "I know one of the architects." She summed with a slight laugh, finding a small joy in the irony of it all.

At that statement, five jaws literally hit the ground.

"You can't be serious!" Raphael exclaimed, but at her nod he could only shake his head in disbelieve. "Next your going to tell us that you know where he lives and he's fond of turtles." He criticized, turning away. This was just too unbelievable to be real. Nothing ever fell together this neatly, _especially _in their lives. But nevertheless, Centrice continued, confirming the incredibility of the entire situation.

"Actually, no. But I do know his phone number." She pointed out matter-of-factly, which also earned her another stare from the bunch.

"How do you know him Centrice?"

Michelangelo's child-like voice sounded out from the dead silence surrounding them. And at this, Centrice only shrugged.

"Because…he's my Doctor."

At that, Donatello froze.

"But I thought-"

"Yeah, his name _is _Dr. Thomas Gren, but when I first got him he had recently gotten his name changed…But even now many people in the office still slip up and call him…"

"Dr. Homestead?" Donatello asked, shaking his head in mild confusion. "But how does one go from being an architect to being a doctor?"

At that Centrice smirked, the plan formulating almost the very second the speech was out of Donatello's mouth. "I'm sure I will have plenty of time to ask when I call him."

With that she turned to the leader of the group, Leonardo, as did the rest of them. Of course none of this would go down without his sanctification, which was what they all sought for now.

At their stares, though, Leo seemed to be at a loss of sorts.

It was an iffy plan and he was sure they all sensed as well, but if everything fell into place, they would definitely have the "home-field" edge in this operation, which could very well be the difference between their success and the end of the world as they knew it.

Therefore, he knew his stand.

"Do as you must, Centrice. We are all behind you."

He looked each one of the turtles in the eye, letting them know his stand. And as such they all nodded in agreement, even the hesitant Raphael. If everything fell together then all of this would be worth it. As it was though, the most Raphael would be able to do was prepare for the worst, nevertheless. So, with that in agreement, the turtles went their separate ways as the "meeting" was officially drawn to a close. They all had their work cut out for them, which as to know as much of the building as they could in the little bit of time provided.

So with that, Raphael was the first one to leave, shutting himself off from the rest of the world in the confinement of his room in order to go over the notes in peace, as did the elder vampire.

Meanwhile, in an exact opposite strategy, the turtle in Orange only went so far as to the kitchen, settling in there and onto the kitchen table, his place of study.

It gave him full all-access to the fridge, which was _just_ the place for him, leaving Donatello, Centrice and Leonardo alone in the den. And for good reason.

Centrice still had to make the phone call.

"You ok? Do you know what you're going to say?"

Donatello comforted his girl, grabbing her hands while looking into the emeralds she called eyes. In response, she only nodded although her face all but expressed her nervousness. Nevertheless, it was then that Leonardo finally came back to the couple, phone in hand.

"Centrice," He all but mouthed, his voice low with resolve. "It's time."

* * *

'Ring'

Looking up from his daily newspaper, the dark-haired, middle aged male squinted into the living room. At first he didn't move, not really sure if it had had imagined the ring or not. Too many nights in the office…not enough in bed. He very well could have imagined it. But long and behold, another '_ring'_ cut through the living room, all but proving that the call was real.

Never was he really a social person. Middle aged doctor, he was usually too busy for such pleasantries. He really didn't have any friends, just acquaintances and patients. None of which would actually call him at home. With acquaintances, they never really got close enough to actually require a home call, and as far as his patients were concerned, a page from the office would do.

But a phone call?

"I wonder who it is?"

A slight giddiness went through him at the thought. He never got many phone calls, so this was indeed a treat. Standing, he abandoned the newspaper on the kitchen table only to stride into the living room. With a slight sigh, he picked up the receiver.

Only to be surprised by who, exactly, it was on the other end.

"Centrice?" He blinked once before grinning widely. What were the odds…"To what do I owe this honor?"

* * *

Good enough place to end the chapter. _Looks at work and whistles low and long. _Man, what a chapter….Anywho, R & R and I promise I will have chapter four up ASAP! You have my word :) 


	4. Chapter Four

You ready for more? I sure am. The end is coming, and it's coming quick! I can _feel _it! :)

Disclaimer:…just pass the sexy Donny, and no one get's hurt…_wields spoon menacingly…_

Chapter Four

Gren sighed into the cold, frigid air, lightly observing the way his breath smoked away from his mouth and into the coolness of the atmosphere.

It was sunset, and in contemplation Gren couldn't help but peer at his watch. When exactly did she say she going to meet him here?…where ever "here" is…

He knew that he was in Central Park, but upon reaching his destination (a small clearing that he didn't even know existed) he knew that he would not be able to find his way back to civilization, not even if his life depended on it.

Nevertheless, he was here, and so, he waited, his hands shoved deep into his winter jacket. He watched the trees, allowing their stillness to relax him. Before he knew it, he was already deep in thought. If Centrice actually _calling_ him wasn't abnormal enough, telling him to meet her on such short notice, was. Then, when he suggested a coffee shop or something, she declined, and instead, told him that she wanted to meet him somewhere a little more…private…

This still raised his eyebrows, even now.

After that she wasted no time in rallying off directions, so fast in fact that he had to scramble for paper to write them down. And then she just…stopped. When he asked her what this was all about she just replied by telling him to meet her here, and then "all of your questions will be answered."

Mysterious just wasn't the word for it…However, as this was an unexpected change in his "schedule" it did look more preferable than a dreary night alone. So far this phone call alone was the most exiting thing that had happened to him in a long while, which only went to show how dull his life really was. Therefore, his heart jumped at the opportunity to step out of his almost painful routine and into something a bit more, capricious. Taking his jacket in hand, he had eagerly followed her directions, leaving his house almost immediately after hanging up the phone.

Only to bring him to a place that could have been considered "the middle of nowhere," even though it was in the middle of Central park.

Nevertheless, upon arrival Gren couldn't help but whistle long and low.

'Geez, when she says 'private' she really means private.'

This part of Central part was literally deserted. Not a sound flowed from the trees nor the park itself, leaving Gren utterly alone and waiting.

Waiting for company.

Above him the sun began to leave the sky altogether. And in response, the nighttide made itself known, arching up from the other horizon in competition.

Gren frowned lightly upon observing the setting sun. He was not expecting to be out here after dark.

Not here…

Form what he heard; being in Central park after dark was just something that shouldn't be done. It was after dark that robbers and crack fiends wandered aimlessly, just _looking _for victims. Tall, but almost girlishly lanky, Gren knew he that he wouldn't stand a chance against those kinds of people. Therefore, when the sun's presence began to diminish in the sky, he began to get antsy.

Nevertheless, the night continued to creep forth, turning the daylight into shadows as the sun continued to set.

'Where is she?!'

He began to grow impatient with the girl, a little angry that she had made him come out only to wait for her.

'Five more minutes. That is all I can stand and then I'm lea-…'

That was all his mind was able to conjure before he heard the undeniable sound of rusting from the far off bush. His mind froze in panic at the infinite possibilities of who stood behind that bush…

'What if it's a robber?! Or, even worse, a 'gangsta?!' I need to get out of here!'

His mind made itself clear, immediately telling his feet to move. By then he was already half way on the other side of the field. Turning in horror, Gren watched as the bushes were finally parted, releasing a horrific, mind-eating, child-gobbling….Centrice?

"Oh!"

She jumped, startled by his presence, but overlooked his wild and fearful stand. "Sorry I took so long. Had a few things to take care of first." She stated easily, shoving her hands into her pockets as if observing the cold for the first time. Meanwhile, though, Gren blinked as rational thought returned to him. Leaning over, he tried to catch his breath, of which came in short, fretful, wheezes. Centrice blinked, finally truly looking at the doctor for the first time since entering the clearing.

"Um…are you OK?…Mr. Gren?" She strode over to him, worry evident in her eyes as she observed his shaking frame. Not really knowing what else she could do, she began to pat his back as he leaned over onto his knees. "Gren? Are you ok?"

"You scared me nearly half to death!" Was all he could get out before he finally just slumped downward, falling onto his butt rather awkwardly before watching her with wide eyes. Centrice followed him down, but did not sit. Instead she crouched to look him in the ghostly pale face.

"I'm sorry," She attempted, "I didn't mean to scare you…"

"No, it's fine." He offered, finally catching his breath from the huge scare that had seized it. "I'm alright."

Centrice watched as he stopped wheezing, his breath coming more normally as he stood. His dark hair fell into his eyes, as he then peered down and into her face with a slight curiosity.

"Now, about that call…"

Before he couldn't even continue, she seemed to do it for him, shoving her hands deep into her pockets once again as she grew nervous. Instantly, her mouth began to run a mile a minute.

"Oh, yeah, about that. I called you here for a very good reason, but actually don't know if I should have."

Upon seeing Gren nearly jump out of his skin over nothing, it made her doubt how good of an idea this really was. With everything she was planning to expose him too before the night was through, he just wouldn't make it.

"Maybe I shouldn't have called you. I just, I just-" She stumbled over her words, finally growing silent at the obsolete look he was giving her. Sheepishly, she feigned a wide grin while bringing her hand to the back of her head in innocence.

"So I'll be seeing you later then! Tootles!"

But before she could even move he already had her arm in a soft but sturdy grip.

"No, what is this about? You call me up out of no where, and then tell me to come here, only to tell me to go home?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with a heavy contemplation and a hint of annoyance. At that Centrice sighed, sliding her arm from his grip as she finally just gave in.

He asked for it…

"Fine. I need you're help." She stated simply, crossing her arms as she huffed out her request.

At that Gren's eyebrows shot up. He was not expecting that at all. "Really?" He asked, soaking in her pouting demeanor. "How so?"

At this Centrice sighed, all but sensing the awkward moments to come. Well, here goes…

"Dr. Gren-"

"Ah, you can just call me Gren." He stated, interrupting her.

At that she nodded before nervously continuing. "…Gren…earlier, I couldn't help but notice how a lot of people kept call you Dr. Homestead…Dr. Mikal Homestead…" She began, watching him clinically as he only nodded in recognition.

"Yes, that was my old name. I changed it to Gre-"

"Yeah, yeah. I can see that." She interrupted him this time, ceasing his insignificant badger, "That's not the point, though. The point is, out of pure curiosity I looked you up and found some very interesting things about you, Mikal. Your architectural history, for instance."

Gren blinked…This conversation was definitely not going as expected. Not at all.

"Centrice, I must say that I am a little thrown. What exactly are you trying to ask me?" For the umpteenth time that afternoon turned night, he furrowed his brows in confusing. And at that, Centrice nearly screamed.

This was _way _harder than she thought it would be.

However, as it was, she wouldn't have to say another word. The fates sent another to say them for her.

"What she is trying to inquire is whether or not you are the same Mikal Homestead that participated in constructing one of the buildings in lower downtown. A building by the name of 'AVTech.'"

Another figure broke from the bushes. This time, a much bigger figure. An up-collared trench coat and low sitting fedora hat blocking any view Gren could have gotten of the man's face, except for his eyes. Nevertheless, at the new figure's appearance, Gren took several steps back, his fear induced wheeze returning as he eyed bulky shadow, of which, joined Centrice's side.

"Look buddy, I don't want any trouble…" He started, backing up and shaking his head in an attempt to wear off the dark figure, but instead the figure only watched him lightly before turning to the girl he stood next to and shrugging. And in turn, Centrice only shrugged back.

Grenwatched the entire exchange in horror.

"Centrice? You _know _this guy?!" He all but squeaked, eyes wide as he watched the sinister character. He looked like a brute if he ever saw one. The coat around his body seemed to melt into the obvious muscle structure of his arms, but not before arching weirdly over the man's back. It was as if he was hunched over or something. Very strange. But nevertheless, Centrice nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Well, yeah. Actually he's…"

"Centrice, we don't have the time for this." The figure warned, and at that, Centrice seemed to grow quiet as the figure continued his interrogation.

"Are you the same Mikal Homestead that assisted in the construction of the AVTech building?"

At the inquiry Gren blinked, clearly uncomfortable about talking with the strange and mysterious figure, but seeing no other reason not to answer.

"Actually, Yes. Me and my brothers…My brothers and I, we all designed and constructed that building."

At this the figure turned to Centrice and nodded, silently telling her what she knew she had to do.

After a moment of thought she finally stepped forward, gaining the attention of the lanky man once more.

"Well then you are the one we need." She stated simply, making sure she kept her voice as neutral and unthreatening as possible. The last thing she wanted to do now was scare him although her immediate mind told her that she was already too late.

"Need?" He asked, eyeing her unevenly, unsure of what to make out of the situation. "For what?"

"…Well, see, that part is hard to explain. We can't talk about it here, not now. You have to come back with us-"

"Oh no, oh no!" That was the last straw. "I am not going anywhere until you stop all of this mystery and tomfoolery and tell me what is…going…on-oh dear."

It was then that Gren eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head as he promptly fainted. He hit the ground with a dull "thump."

Centrice turned, not really knowing the reason for his sudden fall-out, but she did have her suspicions. When she did turn though, her suspicions were all but confirmed. "Donny!"  
"What?" He responded, shrugging lightly as he fanned himself with his fedora. "I was getting hot…and you know we don't have the time. So, come on!"

Wasting no time at all he replaced his hat before striding over to the unconscious body. Heftily, he heaved the tall form over his shoulder. Centrice nearly stuttered in response.

"We're kidnapping him?!"

Donatello froze.

"Well?…"

He looked at her doubtfully, slowly observing her own doubt before turning to the sky above, the stars just making themselves know against the darkness of the night.

"Well. Right now, we have no other choice…"

Coming back to earth, he looked the love of his life the eye and then turned his gaze to the limp form on his shoulder. Shifting its weight, he finally nodded in consent.

"I guess we are, then."

Don sighed, not really wanting to commit the crime of 'kidnapping' but as he said before, right now, they had no other choice.

"Let's go."

* * *

The first thing he felt was the cool dampness of a cloth as it caressed his aching head. 

"…uhh…"

And then everything just came rushing back…His mind became boggled with confusion as several unfamiliar voices sounded out to him from the darkness of his closed lids.

"Dude, he's been out for a while…Do you think he's ok?"

"Well, he looks fine 'ta me…Right Don?"

"Well, I did a full diagnosis of him upon coming home. Nothing serious, just a bump on his head from the fall. Yeah, he should be just fine."

There was a pause.

"Well good. We need him in relatively good condition. We wouldn't want him forgetting all that he knows because of some silly fall…"

There was another pause, this one even longer than the first.

"…That _can't _happen…can it?"

"Well, it can…but I don't think-"

"Dude! We gotta wake him up! We need him-"

"Yo Mikey, chill!"

Yet another pause.

"…I'm gonna wake him!"

"Mikey, no!…Not you, he would freak. Centrice will have to do it."

There! A name he knew. He felt relief flood his shocked and numbed system like warm, sense-bringing water, and slowly he felt his body become his again, and in response, he moaned.

"Well, looks like we won't need Centrice to do tha' honors anymore. They guy is already awake."

"Uhh, where am I?" His own voice sounded foreign to him as he spoke, his throat dry and parched from its lack of use. "Can I get some water?"

There was a soft pitter patter as a pair of feet seemed to leave the room. At its sound Gren grew curious. Who were these people? However, when his mind brought back the vision of the bulky figure his eyes shot open in realization. That had been the last thing he remembered, that figure taking off his hat, and being some type of …monster.

And then he woke up here.

Centrice startled as Gren's eyes shot open. His body suddenly went ridged as he gasped lightly. She had been sitting next, kneeling on the floor to lean over the couch Gren now occupied. However, when he woke up she grew slightly nervous, not at all sure as to how Gren would react.

"Gren? Gren. You're alright." She moved closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his forehead. "You were out of it for a while."

At this Gren only blinked hard, looking Centrice in the face as if trying to determine if she was real or not. Nevertheless, upon feeling her hand on his head he relaxed, becoming content with what was going on. That is until he caught a glimpse of the dark shadows that stood behind her.

Dark _living_ shadows.

"Centrice? Where am I?" He asked, his voice muffled as he fought off the clutches of sleep. Slowly he began to rise, lifting himself up from off of the old couch only to peer deeper into the darkness that surrounded him. It wasn't _pitch_ darkness, but dark enough. He could not for the life of him see the figures that sat _just_ behind Centrice.

"Who…who are they-?"

"Ok, got the water! Sorry I took so long. Wanted to get it nice and…cold…"

Michelangelo strode into the den then, his voice chipper and normal as if everything was just as it should be. But that all soon changed when he realized that the human was now awake. Almost instantly, Michelangelo re-immersed himself into the shadows of the dark room but by then it was already too late.

"Ahh! The Monster!" Gren exclaimed, leaping to his feet at the sight of the green skin. However, this new occurrence seemingly initiated an entirely new "conversation" for the shadows to forgo. And in slight horror, Gren watched the entire conversation from the lamplight.

"Great job Mikey, you dorkwad. Now he'll never help us!"

"But…I have water!"

"Mike, I thought we all agreed not to let him see us until _after _Centric-"

"But Leo,…Water!"

"Well, nevertheless, he's already seen him, as he did me. We should just turn on the light. Besides, we don't have time for this!"

"Donatello, don't touch that light switch. That is an order. We will do this as planned!"

Meanwhile, Gren watched the shadows converse from his stand, his head going back and forth as they each spoke and stated their opinions. As of now, he counted four…creatures…each one of them sporting the same hunched back as well as the bulging muscles. He could see that much from the light he did have. But what, exactly, _were_ they? Were they humans? Some type of…freaks? Mutants, maybe? Nevertheless, oblivious of his pondering, they still continued in their debates.

"No, I'm with Donny on this one. We should turn on the light, Leo. Then if he's shocked, then he's shocked, no time wastin'. And I for one ain't for the time wastin'!"

Gren watched this one as he spoke, singling him out because of his strong New York accent. It was not the one he met in the park, though. Nevertheless, this one stood almost right next to him, immersed in the shadows like the others, but almost close enough to touch.

"What…exactly…are you?" He asked the figure, leaning closer as he squinted into the shadows in hopes of picking up more details about their abnormalities. At that, all conversation dropped as all four of the figures paused, freezing as if realizing for the first time that he was actually listening to their conversations. At this, the one nearest him seemed to take the moment as a golden opportunity, for after a moment of hesitation he stepped even closer to the awed man as well as the single lamp.

"We're turtles." He stated simply. And from what Gren observed, the guy was telling the truth.

Upon stepping closer the figure allowed the bit more light to illuminate his features. Although he did not step completely out from the shadows he did show enough for his speech to be confirmed with the illumination of his green skin and pale green-yellow of his chest, which consisted of a shell.

He was, indeed, a turtle.

"…I don't understand." Gren finally admitted, falling into a sit on the couch. Turtles? How was that even possible?

Nevertheless, the…turtle…only seemed to shrug.

"You don't have to. That's not what you're here for. All you need to do is remember the inside of that AVTech building! Other than that, I couldn't care less about what you 'understand.'"

"Raph!"

Another turtle stepped out of the shadows. This one wearing a blue bandana. And he was none too pleased.

"He is out guest! And we are his hosts. Act like it!"

It was then that this new turtle suddenly turned to Gren, leaning out of the darkness as well in order to address him head-on.

"You will have to excuse him, but we _are_ in a bind."

"And the lights go on…"

Suddenly the entire room was flooded with light; exposing each and every shadow for what they were…Four gigantic talking, walking, turtles.

They all stood around him, one of them holding a glass of water, another purple banded one coming back from the light switch. In front of him stood a red banded turtle while next to him stood a blue one, his hands still on his hips from before. It seems as if Mr. Red or 'Raph' had been the one he was talking to as was Mr. Blue. Which had been the one scolding him. Nevertheless, the red one still stood his ground, not moving from his spot as light flooded the room. The only difference with the turtle was just the fact that now the details of his body were all exposed, giving Gren the shock of his life. All four of the turtles sported incredibly built bodies, their muscles bungling as they walked or just stood. Four, muscle bearing turtle _monsters_ it seemed, but still, they all remained calm, conversing with each other as they observed the now shaking man.

"Dude, you're scaring him." The Orange one exclaimed, motioning towards the man with the glass of water he still held. At that red one scoffed before turning to look at the human himself. "No I'm not…Look, he's smiling!" He stated, pointing. Upon observing the turtle's two digit-ed hand, it seemed to be all he could take as Gren just closed his eyes. Nevertheless, Mike seemed to draw closer, as if observing the human for himself before turning back to his brother in disagreement.

"Raph…he's grimacing."

"Same thing."

"You guys!"

This time it was the purple one's turn to speak up. He was the one that had been near the light switch, and seemingly, if the bandanna was a clue, the same one he had spotted in the park. This one approached the group of turtles then, his voice strained and his face in a scowl as he continued. "We. Don't. Have. Time. For. Thi-"

"Actually. Donatello is right in his avowal. Time is of the essence."

Gren turned as he followed the turtle's gazes as they focused to a point behind him. There stood a relatively tall man, handsome in the face with a body built lean like an athlete. This one, actually, was human. And as far as he could tell, he was also just a kid.

"We only have a few hours between now and the revolution, and I recommend we make the most of them."

But then he spoke again, his mannerisms contradicting that of his child-like features.

He was no child.

Actually, very far from it.

Nevertheless, before Gren could even blink the young man was already approaching. Once there, the black haired teen reached out a hand in greeting.

"Owen Cromwell."

He introduced himself, and at the name Gren only nodded in disillusionment. It wasn't as if he recognized it or anything. Nevertheless, with no more than a nod Gren took the young man's hand, wincing slightly at his surprisingly strong grip.

"Gren." He responded as they boy released his hand. "Thomas Gren."

Gren watched at the young man's eyebrows furrowed as if contemplating what he was just told, but then seemed to shrug it off just as easily.

"Gren." Mr. Cromwell repeated before reopening his mouth to continue. However, it was then that he was immediately interrupted.

"Alright. I guess that means that we should do our introductions as well!"

Centrice's suddenly shrill voice interrupted anything Owen could have said as she stepped out from behind the accumulating crowd. Sometime during all of the commotion she had become a shadow in the background, but now she made herself known, as she too recognized the urgency of their situation. Owen was right when he said that the time was winding down…

Nevertheless, the turtles recognized her prodding and realized what she was trying to get them to do. With a sign, Raphael gave in, and introduced himself.

"Hey…"  
When Gren turned, Raph only frowned before leaning over the couch, his arms crossing as he spoke.

"I'm Raphael."

Picking up on his cue, the orange turtle grinned widely before approaching the man as well. In his outstretched hand he offered the water while he beamed.

"And I'm Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey!"

Gren took the water, but before he could even mutter a word of thanks he was interrupted by yet another voice.

"And this is my Boyfriend. Gren I would like you to meet D-"

"Oh! Well I've always wanted to meet the lucky man." His voice lacked enthusiasm but nevertheless he stood. However, instead of heading in the direction she was presenting, he head to her left…and right for Owen. "Glad I finally get to meet him." He murmured, shaking his hand yet again. At this Centrice wasn't the only one to flush, Owen did as well seemingly not really knowing what to do other than take the hand that was offered to him. Nevertheless, he sputtered as he realized what was happening.

"But...but I'm not-"

"No Gren, no. That's not by boyfriend. This…" She reached for Donatello, clasping his arm in hers before sliding her hand down to grasp his. "…Is my boyfriend. Gren, I would like you to meet, Donatello."

Waving slightly, Donatello smiled a bit, finding the slightest bit of pleasure in the shocked expression on the human's face.

Meanwhile, the entire clan watched the scene before them as it played out to hilarious proportions. And as it was, Raphael just could not _help_ but comment.

"…And this has just gotten interesting…"

* * *

"So…let me get this straight. So, you all are mutant turtles, mutated in an accident by a canister of radioactive ooze."  
Gren paced the room for possibly the millionth time, seeming pondering heavily on what he was just exposed to. Nevertheless, at his speech, Donatello nodded once, his head in his hands, slightly aggravated at how long the whole "comprehension" process had taken. 

"Right." He agreed, shaking his head slightly when Gren continued to pace.

"And tonight you're all planning on infiltrating an evil vampire uprising. And you want to use my knowledge of the building to give you guys the edge so you can you all can save the world from total devastation."

Again, Donatello nodded, not looking up from the floor as he held his head in his hands.

"Right."

Michelangelo watched as the man finally stop wearing holes into the floor as he ceased in his pacing. Watching the turtle in purple he continued with his speech.

"And you're a vampire…"

"…Right."

Donatello looked up then, his face all but expressing his discontent, but he kept everything to himself as Gren finally seemed to be getting the drift.

"…And so is he."

At that Gren pointed off to the side where Owen stood in silence, leaning against the couch, his arms crossed, and his head down. His silence could have been translated as rest, the vampire being asleep because of the stillness of his body and the evenness of his breathing. But if anyone knew better, Don did. Owen was very much alert, and very much paying attention.

"Right." Don nodded, but not before sparing the silent vampire a stray glance.

For a moment Gren's pacing was the only thing that flowed to the two vampires, turtle, and girl's lowly ears. Centrice sat beside Donatello, soundly observing the entire transaction but she could easy feel the apprehension that had risen in the lair. Everyone was now at their wits end, even her.

"…So…will you help us?" Donatello sighed, not really knowing where Gren stood. Initially, the idea was that they would trade the secret of their existence with the knowledge of the building, but right now, he wasn't so sure. Gren still seemed a bit jittery, even though he was at least ninety-percent calmer than he was an hour ago. Nevertheless, Donatello still felt the need to ask, not wanting to throw Gren's nerves once again in a demand he thought he couldn't get out of…even though at this point, they literally wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

And this Gren seemed to pause, looking the vampire/turtle in the face in a moment of silence before his mouth split into a grin. It was a nervous grin, but a grin nonetheless.

"Yes." He nodded, turning to the giant talking turtle…Boy did he have to get used to that idea. "Yes, I'm in."

At this everyone in the room seemed to snap to attention. Even Owen lifted his head at the man's words; his formerly boiling impatience steaming down to that of just annoyance as he finally pushed himself off of the couch, murmuring under his breath in resentment.

"Well, gee, that only took _two _hours…"

As Don turned to the elder vampire and grinned (him being the only one that was close enough to hear Owen's murmured comment) Centrice stood then and without another word, she headed out of the room. Coincidentally, she had a smile on her face as well.

She had also heard Owen's comments.

"I'm going to go get Leo. We should get things on the road."

Within a matter of moments, Leonardo was interrupted from his Katas by the smirking Centrice. She brought good news. Their "guest"was _finally _ready to comply.

"About time."

Immediately, Leonardo ambled past her and into the direction of the den. Meanwhile, Raph heard the commotion from his room and couldn't help but address the smirking Centrice as well as the solemn Leo.

"What's goin' on? Doc's ready to talk?"

"Oh, just come on."

She reached out as she passed him, tugging on his bandana in jest. Raph blinked through red, only to succeed in at least getting his vision back as he began to readjust the cloth. He got his bandanna down just in time to watch the both of them walk down the hallway towards the den. With a snort, he began to follow.

"Don't gotta tell me twice…"

Raphael stepped out of his room just in time to see his brother, Donatello, strut into the very same hallway, except it seemed that Donatello was heading away from the action instead of towards it. The emerging turtle made him forget about his bandana's state and instead fixing it, he peered out at his brother one with eye blinded and the other one completely out of the bandana altogether. Nevertheless he smirked as he watched his brother approach him.

"Where ya headed to, Donny? The party's the other way."

"Laptop." Don stated simply, brushing past the seemly nosey brother and into his room only to reemerge two seconds later with the flat computer. This time he did not spar Raph a single word as he brushed past as silent as the air around them. Raphael could only blink as he watched his solemn brother head back towards the den.

"Damn."

Readjusting his bandanna, Raphael shrugged off the cold rudeness his brother had just expressed, and instead thought towards the future. He couldn't help the smirk that slowly spread across his malevolent face. Finally! With Gren's cooperation they would be one step closer to the fight he had been looking forward to for all eternity.

Definitely the fight of a lifetime…

His muscles twitched at the mere thought of it.

---

"Ok, so here a break down of the plan."

They all sat in the den now, Leonardo being the center of attention on the long couch. To his right sat his brother Donatello, and to his left sat the newcomer, Gren. Their secret weapon. Behind them stood both Raphael and Owen, their bodies leaning on opposite sides of the couch but still they stood rather symmetrical to their chief, Leonardo. In the middle of them stood Centrice as well as Michelangelo, not so symmetrical but still balanced. Centrice was leaned down, her hands sitting on the back of Don's neck. Meanwhile, Mike was left standing, his hands crossed as he rubbed at his face. They all watched Leo, or specifically, Don's laptop of which now sat open on the coffee table, displaying the layout of the entire AVTech building and the placemats of the buildings around it., courtesy of the green vampire himself.

"Owen, properly bugged and equipped, will join up with the renegades as planed while we," Leo turned, looking each one of his brothers in the eye, "scope out the target from above. Then when Owen and the renegades infiltrate the building, so do we."

At this, he turned to the newest member of their team.

"That is where you come in, Gren. It will be your job to give us the 'inside scope' of the parts of the building we will encounter." Leo explained. At this though, Gren seemed to frown, furring his brows slightly as he contemplated what he was just told.

"But, how would I know where you guys are…if I am not to be in there with you?" His brows furrowed even further, but in response Leonardo only smiled before turning to his right and into the wise eyes of his brainiac brother.

"Donny?"

"Audio transmitters, micro-sized cameras as well as small signaling devices will be installed into each of our masks, permitting you to see and hear us and everything around us from the safety of your set up. You will even be able to see what we see, lessening the chances of a screw up."

Donatello eyed the human as curtly as he would allow, all but expressing their expectations of Gren, and at this, Gren only nodded, seemingly understanding the unspoken agreement. It was then that Donatello continued. "Owen, though, since he is literally the center of this operation, shall be bugged to the max. Audio transmitters, cameras, tracking devices, as well as a few extras…"

He lamented aloud, more to himself than anyone to anyone else. With Owen, Donatello knew he had his work cut out for him. The "youthful" vampire would be interacting very heavily with the actual renegades, thus, making it very important that his cover not be blown, _especially _not by some stray wires. Nevertheless, this statement did end his explanations of what was to be expected that night, and in response, all of the persons in the room nodded silently. Those were the plans, as loose as they were. Those were the only things they could depend on. Everything else, including exactly how they would complete their missions, was as unknown as the number of galaxies above them. Meaning, none of those sort of specifics would be addressed until they were able to see what actually they were working with, which would and could only happen once the entire stake-out was well underway.

Therefore, right now, the stakeout (sit and wait) mission was their first and only priority, not having any other alternatives until that one was accomplished.

Then and only then would the true challenge begin, but until then they could only plan and hope.

Hope that they all would survive long enough to stop the madness that would be the revolution, hopefully, before it even started.

But if that didn't work, then the most they could pray for was for their own survivals, and even then, that was not a given. They could all very well die that night. Nothing was a guaranteed…nothing. Not even their own lives.

But as things were now, that was just the way things had to be.

* * *

Shirtless, Owen sat cross-armed in Donatello's lab, lightly shivering from the cold air of the dark room. 

He was cold.

There was no hiding that, but that didn't mean that he had to give into the jaw stricken chatter of his teeth. He had been through worse, much worse than just sitting in a freezing room, shirtless. However, when Donatello moved from whatever he was doing to administer his hand's contents onto his back, Owen could easily say that he was in hell. Not at all used to getting touched, this was absolute torture. He hadn't really been "touched" like this since he was married. Nevertheless, he only gritted his teeth, tensing as Donatello's hands found his back. At this the turtle seemed to pause in his administrations before chuckling.

"Don't tell me you're scared of a little bit of tape…"

Donatello couldn't help but chuckle at how Owen was reacting to just getting wired up. It seemed that with each piece of tape, with each placement of the wires that now ran up his bare back the old vampire grew more and more jittery. At Donatello's speech though, Owen still chose to say nothing. However, the next time the turtle did move away, Owen blinked at his lack of return. At this Owen's scowl seem to lighten slightly at the possibility of it all finally being over.

"Are you through?" He asked, never turning around from his stiff perch on the bench. Behind him there was a heavy silence as Don seemed to examine his handiwork. Owen's pale black gleamed in the poor light, but nevertheless, Donatello smiled at the neat wires that ran from the waist of his pants and up the sides of his stomach only to curve under both shoulder blades and meet in the middle at the base of Owen's neck. Very neat and precise. Donatello taped the wires tight to Owen's form, but just loose enough to allow mobility. Even if someone was to bump into him, pat his back, or even hug him (hey, with this crowd, anything could happen) the wires would still go undetected. Donatello smiled.

"Yes, I'm done. Well, with this part anyway."

Sitting down, Donatello moved to his bench, but not before throwing the black shirt at the vampire, of whom, caught it easily even with his back turned. Without another word, the shirt was on in seconds as Owen stood, but he paused, observing the few wires that now barraged his neck.

Owen turned to the turtle then, not saying anything but implied that he wanted an explanation as he motioned towards the small cluster of wires.

Donatello read his teacher like a book.

"Well," Donatello began, seemingly sidetracked as he typed something into his laptop. "They're a lot of things…" He referred to the wires then, finally making his way over to Owen. "Specifically, this," Don leaned close to study the wires before picking up one wire that had a small rounded tip. "Is your microphone. And this," He dropped the first wire only to pick up the second one. "Is our spyware. See, it's a little camera. See!" Donatello used this opportunity to show off his handiwork, turning his laptop so that Owen could see the video footage the cam was currently picking up. On the screen, Donatello waved. Owen turned back, only to see Donatello waving at the camera in his hand. "We will be able to see and hear everything you can see. Well actually…Gren will be the one seeing everything…"

At that Donatello seemingly trailed off, his head down as he made his way over to his desk once again. It was a very minor change in demeanor, but _nothing_ went past Owen unnoticed.

"You don't like him, do you."

It was more of a statement than anything else, and in response Donatello only sighed.

"He is helping us when no one else can." Don countered, which only succeeded in assuring Owen in the fact that his former statement had been correct.

"You _don't _like him." Owen stated, turning to look the now downcast turtle in the eye. "Is it because of his fondness for Centrice?"

"Hey! I would rather_ not_ talk about this right now. We have things to do. There's no time for-"

"Donatello." Owen stated simply, looking his pupil in the face. He knew when Donatello was upset, 'babbling' being one of his main indicators.

"He presents no threat to you and Centrice's relationship…"

"I know, I know Owen. She can't stand him, or at least, she couldn't. Now though, I'm not to sure…"

While Donatello pondered of his own dark feelings, Owen couldn't help but integrate his mind with that of Donatello, sensing his growing feelings from a mile away. Nevertheless he waited for Donatello's hesitant but silent permission before actually prying lightly into the depths of the turtle's mind.

Only to frown at what he found there.

'Anger,…confusion,…resentment…jealousy?'

'Donatello…'

'Drop it, Owen.'

"Donatello…" Owen stepped forward only to meet a raging turtle.

"I said…_drop_ it." Donatello restated, his eyes narrowing in challenge. Nevertheless, the vampire did just that, not really up for talking about such a sensitive subject anyways. At Owen's stand down Donatello breathed once before addressing the vampire once again, his face and mind clear of any trace of the conversation they had just had.

Everyone else was already all hooked up, all of their masks having been formally equipped as they should. Owen was the only one left, and then from there…everything was a go.

"Sit down Owen, were not done yet. Still have to put the transmitters in place as well as your earphone."

"Earphone?"

Owen sat again, just thankful that this time he didn't have to strip. He watched as Donatello approached him, his hands going towards the vampire's neck before pausing, as if realizing something.

"Oh yeah, and unbutton your shirt, I have to run this wire down to your che-"

"I'll just take it off…" Owen stated dejectedly, knowing that he would just end up having to take it off anyways.

'When will I ever win?'

* * *

Owen breathed in the air of his room as he looked into the mirror at himself.

This was it. They would be leaving as soon as he walked out of his room. They would be on their way.

He peered into his pale but handsome face, eyeing the way his eyes seemed dimmer than usual, the weight on his shoulders seemingly dimming the light in his own soul. But that was ok. This time, he knew he wouldn't be bearing the burden alone…

Speaking of the others, Owen made sure to double check the handiwork of his one and only student. He smiled. Not a single wire was visible, not a single one. Even when patting himself, he literally felt nothing unusual. Donatello did good. However, when his gaze fell to his right ear, he was surprised that he saw nothing there either. The "earphone" Donatello had been referring to earlier had not even been an earphone at all, but a single receiver actually planted (using an adhesive) _behind _his right ear, hidden neatly in his black hairline. It was tiny, but after doing a test check, they deemed it effective. The little black receiver allowed Owen to "hear" everything that was being said, without having to press or adjust anything. It was all right there in the tiny dot of a receiver. So tiny in fact, that it could easily be mistaken and passed for a mole, which he assumed, was Donatello's plan the entire time.

And he had to say, it worked.

Other than that, nothing else on Owen was visible, leaving Owen very impressed.

At the acceptance of the turtle's handiwork Owen's eyes moved then from the turtle's work to his own. He had made sure to dress "appropriately" for the occasion. No longer did he wear the normal looking tee-shirt and denim he wore earlier with Donatello. Black fishnets adorned both of his arms, the sleeves hooking at his thumbs and running up to disappear under the shoulders of his sleeveless shirt. They itched like crazy, but from what he saw in the Goth shop when they initially went shopping for the clothes, fishnets was "in," so fishnets he wore, regardless of how much he hated the itchy fabric. Nevertheless, he smirked a bit while looking into the mirror. The sleeveless shirt he wore hugged his torso, accenting the muscles in his chest quite impressively. A little _too _nicely in his opinion, but again, that was what they wanted. Hanging off of his neck was the amulet he had worn earlier, but right now, that wasn't what caught his attention. In the center of his chest was an icy blue symbol. (He had no idea what it meant) It was interesting, but the real reason he wore it was because of its coloring, and how it seemed to match, to the tee, one of the pants he had originally tried on in the store.

One each side of his waist, three bands of fabric hung down, meeting him almost at his knees. On one side of each of the black bands was the same icy blue coloring of his shirt, while the other side was just a simple black. He really didn't understand what these particular lines of fabric were for, but they looked good, so he wore the pants. Besides, he was getting used to it all; the baggy heavily pocketed pants, the symbols, the tight tees. The swinging fabrics on his pants, although he still couldn't figure out what they were used for…But he wore it, nonetheless, because punks thought it was cool.

He nearly rolled his eyes before turning away from the mirror as he grabbed up his sword.

"Kids nowadays. What ever happened to tunics and sandals, huh? At least back then you knew what you were wearing…"

* * *

"Ooh, Owen. Lookin' good! Might get more action that you thought, goin' out lookin' like that! Ha!"

"Don't patronize me…" Owen warned, looking down at his own clothes in disinterest before handing his sword to the smirking turtle. In response, Raphael only smirked wider, but did not continue in his teasing. Instead, he handed the sword to Donatello for them to bring along in their mission…just incase things were to get very sticky. Nevertheless, the lair was solemn as the night of reckoning was finally upon them.

Before, when Owen was still in his room preparing, the other turtles had also been readying themselves. One by one they had appeared in the den, their own preparations for the night before them evident in their modes of pre-battle meditation.

Leonardo had been the first one ready for the night ahead (of course) mostly due to the fact that he was prepared for this battle from the beginning. Upon entering, though, he leaned against the wall of the den, his eyes closed and his head down, seemingly still in deep meditation. In reality, he was only waiting for the others to join him.

And he did not have long to wait.

Almost as soon as he had established himself in his wait, the second youngest turtle was already in the room. Donatello filed in accordingly, which was surprising, since he had the most to prepare, physically and mentally.

But his heart was downcast at the thoughts of his own preparations.

He did not meet his goal. He was unable to learn all of the arts before the night hit, and now he was at a disadvantage.

It wasn't as if he didn't try. Owen and him had spent _hours_ attempting to perfect his telekinesis, the both of them working long and hard on the different methods to go about the activity, but even then, Donatello was not successful. Finally, the both of them called it quits, Owen dismissing the fact with the possibility that the mix of the vampric blood and the animal (turtle) mutation left Donatello without the ability for such vampric acts.

Nevertheless, Donatello wasn't so "eager" to give up. To him, it was more of a failure than anything thing else.

To him, he was a failure.

All of his life he was always the one that was able to figure things out, even when his brothers told him that it was impossible. It was his nature. However, with this, he couldn't help but feel the pang of failure even though this was beyond his own thoughts of reasoning the mutation/vampric "restrictions" being out of his control.

Therefore, when Owen admitted defeat, it only resulted in furthering Donatello's ambitions, giving him even more motivating to do what everyone else said was impossible.

It was his nature even when he was anything but natural.

Now, he walked into the room, the bag on his shoulder heavy with the equipment and supplies they all could need. Grappling hooks, First-Aid kits as well as other supplies that my just be handy for their mission inhabited his bag. In the end his laptop toped it all off, completing his physically preparations.

Mentally, though, it was another issue altogether.

In his mind the sting of failure still ate at him like nothing else. To him, he was anything but prepared, but with the hour of reckoning upon them the most he could do was just deal and hope that everything would work according to plan, or at least, that they would get out alive.

Thus cued turtle number three.

Raphael, like his brothers, was also in the mindset for battle, but unlike his brothers, he was anything but solemn.

"Hey Donny! Got enough stuff in your giant purse there?"

No sooner had he moseyed on in the room was he already on one of his brother's cases, Donatello being the one closest to him and the easiest target for victimization. Meanwhile though, as soon as the words had left his brother's lips, Donatello's head snapped to look him in the eyes, his teeth gritting as he responded through them.

"We've been through this. It's a carry bag, and you know it…"

Raph only laughed, flopping down uncaringly into the seat next to his brother, his voice unusually cherry (in a sarcastic way, of course) as he responded.

"Right…In what country?"

It seemed to be all Donny could stand, his growl coming automatically as he turned to glare fiery daggers at his brother in red. When Raph only laughed in response, it seemed to break the camel's back as Donny suddenly stood, his eyes almost literally on fire.

"This bag," He spat, motioning to the brown sack as he addressed his asshole of a brother, "holds the key to our survival in that hell hole. Meaning, it's the only thing that will keep our sorry asses alive..." Donatello's voice was nothing more than a spitting whisper, his own disgust and discontent over his personal reflections making themselves known in his scolding. And at his tones, Raphael couldn't help but blink before backing off. Holding up both hands, Raphael surrendered before literally backing off of the couch, completely taken back by the venom that seemed to spit from Donny's mouth. Never had he seen his brother so angry, or at least, so intimidating angry.

And he had a good suspicion that it came from the hot vampire blood within him.

Well whatever it was, it certainly was working.

'Note to self: Don't mess with Donny.'

"Alright, alright! Geez, I get the picture. I was just screwin' with ya."

"Well, don't."

Donatello's eyes still burned holes into his brother. Meanwhile the youngest of the brothers stride lightheartedly into the room, the newest member of their team filing in behind him. However, upon entering they both paused as they felt the ice breaking tension that sparked from the hostile Donatello. While Gren only seemed to shrink back at its intensity, Michelangelo blinked. Nevertheless, he took a step backwards as well.

"Whoa…"

At the sound of Mike's voice, Donatello's head snapped to attention in the turtle's direction. A glare was administered to Michelangelo as well. In response Michelangelo backed up even more, his shell clunking lightly against the wall as he held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Whatever I did, dude…I didn't do it!" He quickly exclaimed only to see his brother's glare soften. "Well, I didn't!" He backed up his claim, but by then the situation had already disintegrated. Donatello sat down then, the fire in his eyes extinguishing at his brothers laments. Meanwhile Raph realized that he was suddenly off the hook, and acted on the new freedom by completely moving away from the couch, and away from his suddenly calm brother.

Only to spot his replacement victim walking into the room…brining everything right back to the present with everyone finally in the room and accounted for.

"Well then," Raph began, eyeing the dreary bunch in the room. He knew that time now was of the essence, the big stake out getting closer and closer with every second that passed. His heart skipped a beat because of it. "Should we get going?"

He was never one for just standing around, but as it was, and for once, another brother agreed with him.

"Yes, we should."

Leonardo spoke for the first time, his placidness being broken with the movement of his own mouth. With everyone finally in attendance, it was indeed time to begin the longest night of their lives. Nothing more came from his lips or the others' as he finally pushed himself off of the cold wall. With his eyes stern, and his face stone, he nodded towards the team. They all nodded back.

It had begun.

One by one they filed out of the room and into the sewers.

Michelangelo.

Raphael.

Owen.

With one last kiss from Centrice, Donatello.

And with a last push from Leonardo, Gren.

Being the last one left in the lair, Leo watched as Centrice walked back to her shared room, her eyes and features sad. Slowly though after she had shut her door he eyed his beloved home, knowing that he may very well never see it again. However as his eyes swept over the den he was unable to overlook the now unused walking stick, of which for some reason, now sat in the corner of the room.

With a deep breath, Leo fought back a tear as it stung at his eye. But he knew what he had to do.

"…Splinter." He whispered, before turning away. Nevertheless, he knew that his beloved Sensei would have been pleased with him and his brothers. Over the last few months they had been faced with hell. Nevertheless and despite all odds, they all prevailed with ties even stronger than before. They even added another member to their close knit society below the sewers, Owen. And for that, he knew Splinter would have been very proud of them.

Very proud indeed.

He couldn't let his Sensei down. Not now, not ever.

"This…is for Splinter."

And with those last few words, Leonardo stepped out of his home of twenty two years and into the grimy sewer beyond. This could very well be the last time he would even see these sewers…his home. But nevertheless, he knew that if he died tonight, he and his brothers would die…

With honor.

And that was all he could ever ask for. So, with one last sigh, he followed his brothers away from his home and into brisk airs of the sewers ahead. This would be the biggest battle of his life, but no matter what happened he knew that it would happen with honor.

* * *

Trevor grinned as he over looked the city from above the rough waters. The air was frigidly cold, but it didn't bother him. The night was young, and victory was finally at hand.  
Water droplets splashed against his face as he stared out into the waves below the pier, otherwise known as "The Docks." His coat and streaks of red fiery hair billowed in the gust of strong winds, but again he paid it no mind.  
He was at their meeting place. The first one there. 

But not for long…

"Hey, dude!…Is this the place?"

"Man I hope so. Can't wait to stick it to the man! Av-Tech doesn't stand a chance."

In that same instant, Trevor was gone, evolving into the shadows that was the pier as the adolescent vampires walked up. Nevertheless, they both continued to rant, oblivious of the fact that they were now being watched. Trevor smirked from the shadows. His followers were finally drizzling in, and none too soon.

This would truly be a night of reckoning. And just as he always dreamed, he would finally be on top.

Now all he had to do was wait for his newest recruit, the no named ball of energy that would ensure their success. That guy was powerful, almost matching Owen's unused and wasted power. However, the fact that nothing else about the character matched up with the old advisory made it safe to assume that this new guy was indeed, a newbie.

A newbie Bounty Hunter.  
Trevor's smirked widened and intensified at the thoughts of the young vampire.

Well, when he did show, he would be very well received.

Very well received indeed.

* * *

This time, he couldn't keep his teeth from chattering. It was extremely cold, so cold in fact that if one looked close enough, they could just make out the shiver in Owen's body. But he at least had the ability to keep that to a minimum, although about then he could safely say that he hated the teenagers of this time period.

They all were so bloody superficial. It was a pain fitting in…literally.

The thin jacket he wore did nothing against the harsh frigid winds of the atmospheres, and for that, he was already miserable, the cold actually being one of his many dislikes. Nevertheless, he bared it, not allowing himself to shiver _too _badly. He wasn't a baby, he was a vampire.

Therefore, he should act as one.

So, with no more than a slight frown he pulled the jacket close to his frame and shoved his numb hands into his pockets.

He also regretted having his hair cut short. He was naked compared to how he usually dressed in such weather. His old jacket may have been old, but at least it was relatively weather proof due to the quality and time put into making it. Couldn't get jackets like that any more though, that was for sure. Although well worn and ripped in a few places from his various 'close calls' it still never failed in keeping him warm. Not like the garbage being made now.

And that was all it was really, garbage.  
Everything he wore held no purpose other than looking good…Except for maybe, the amulet.

Unconsciously he reached out with his senses, feeling the rather heavy adornment press lightly against his chest with each step. There was definitely something about that amulet that even Trevor had noticed.

But as to exactly _what _was so special about it, he had no idea. But that was why he wore it, in hopes that if he did he might be able to figure something out. Right now though, it was more of a comfort than anything else…

Water misted suddenly against his face, which told him to sober up.

Looking around he realized that with one more right, "The Docks" would be in sight.

'Alright. Well here goes.'

With no more than a slouch of his posture and a calculated smirk on his face, Owen fell easily into the character and mindset of 'O' (hopefully for the last time) as he finally reached the Docks. Effortlessly, he slipped into the crowd of growing vampires.

However, he could not help but feel a tingle in the back of his mind. Even in the bumbling crowd, he was being singled out by at least one pair of eyes.

He could _sense _it.

Nevertheless, he kept his cool, even as the feeling nipped harshly at his senses.

He was definitely being watched.

* * *

Trevor grinned as he recognized the dark haired youth, and licked his lips in anticipation. 

Bounty hunter or not, he was at least fun to look at…

'Very fun…'

Raunchy fishnets ran up his smooth muscular arms only to disappear under the sleeveless second skin otherwise known as his shirt. It had some blue symbol on the chest, but the symbol wasn't what he was paying attention to. More like the chest underneath.

'Very nice.'

That plus the matching pants he wore made him look even better than he did before.

Unconsciously Trevor's grin grew wider in vice. Never had he had such thoughts about someone of the same sex before. But it seemed that now, like with his powers, this kid was definitely an exception.

Well that wasn't completely true…

There was another he had lusted for, although with this individual he would have never admitted it out loud.

There was another that despite being a fellow vampire, he was also Trevor's archenemy.

The One and Only.

Owen Cromwell.

Ever since he first laid eyes on the human that was now the 'Bounty Hunter' he knew that Owen was the one he wanted for himself.

Even if it meant that he would have to wait centuries to claim the spoils.

But to no prevail…

Over the centuries, Trevor tried time after time again to persuade Owen to join his side. Only then could he have the vampire as he wanted, but things had never gotten far enough when Owen did join him.

Nevertheless, that short fifty seven years of joint forces made all the difference in the world. Owen had learned everything he was taught. And Trevor taught his pupil everything he knew.

Owen would have made a wonderful partner…in more ways than one.

But then one day everything changed.

It was all after a certain chess game, if he remembered correctly. Owen 'goody goody two shoes' ideals of life hindered everything that Trevor was trying to achieve, and in a sudden act of defiance, Owen left from under the wing of his teacher only to become a loner, and has been ever since.

Now, centuries later, Trevor may have finally found a replacement.

And none too soon either. This new kid would be second in command to world domination, just as Owen was supposed to be.

'**But the new kid isn't even a renegade, he's a bounty hunter.'**

Trevor only smirked at his mind's avowal. It wasn't as if he didn't like challenges. Hell, he had gotten Owen onto his side before, didn't he? He had ways of persuasion.

Trevor almost sneered as the scene of a burning house played itself over and over again in his mind. The sweet triumphant smell of burning flesh replayed in his lungs as the sight of a soul survivor standing before a burning home and family caused his eyes to narrow with feat.

Oh yes. He had very good methods of persuasion.

Very _effective_ methods of persuasion, indeed.

* * *

"Click here to get our audios feeds. Leo, Raph, Mike and I will be feeds one through four while Owen, who is over here," Donatello pointed awkwardly over the man's shoulder to one of the five bleeping dots. "Is number five. However, for the majority of time I recommend that you keep all of the audio feeds open unless things get too confusing to do so. Do you understand?"

Donatello's icy stare bore holes into the timid yet calm Gren. At his stare, Gren only nodded despite the shiver that went through him, both at the coldness of the air and at the coldness of the turtle's eyes. Nevertheless, he made sure not to keep the intimidating turtle waiting for a response.

"Yes, I completely understand." Then with a slight shiver he added, "I've worked with this sort of thing before…"

"Well good." Don's response was curt as he swiftly turned from the equipment. "Then I guess you will have no troubles running check tests in about…" Donatello pulled back his wrist band in order to peer at his watch before replacing it. "five minutes?"

Again he used the same sarcastic tone, and again he used the same cold stare as he turned to watch the man he was addressing. This time though Gren didn't catch his glance but instead, focused on the laptop and headset before him. On the roof top the wind swirled around in sharp circles causing both Donatello's bandana tails as well as Gren's long pony tailed hair to veer up. Nevertheless, it all was ignored. Donatello kept his gaze square on the crouching human as he waited for his answer. He did not have to wait long.

"Yes, Don."

Gren hardly looked up, not even meeting the turtle in the eye as he spoke, but he still caught Donatello's nod and then the retreat of the turtle as he moved to the edge of the rooftop.

"Alright."

The turtle's tenor voice sounded out from beyond Gren's vision as he moved. Turning, Gren watched the turtle move to the edge but quickly turned back with the assumption that Don would disappear over it. However, it was then that Donatello spoke up once more.

"Hey, Gren…"

Gren turned again, this time at his name. However, with the quick realization that something was catapulted towards him, he thought fast, catching the flying projectile before it could do any damage to him. But it still left him shocked. That is until he looked down into his hands at what he caught and recognized the bread wrapped in plastic.

It was a sandwich.

"It's incase you get hungry. Oh and Gren…"

Gren looked up to watched the turtle-vampire flip over the roof top before sticking his head back up to look the man in the eye.

"It's Donatello, and don't you forget that."

It was then that Donatello finally let go, dropping to the ground five stories below only to spring up and into a shadowed run in order to get into position.

On the roof Gren blinked once before looking back down at his sandwich.

It was turkey.

"Thanks?"

His voice was immediately droned out by the howl of the winds on the empty roof top. He was all alone.

'I don't think he likes me very much…'

'Oh really? What was your first clue? When he bore holes into you with his glare or when he nearly impaled you with a sandwich?'

"Well?" He voiced out loud. "At least it wasn't pastrami…"

****

'Hardy har har.'

* * *

The lair was still except for one breath amongst the darkness. With a ninja like silence, she sifted from one shadow to the other, quietly moving from her room to her destination. With no more than a quite creak of the floor boards she moved from the hallway to the den…only to end at a door that had been abandoned for only a few months.

Splinter's room.

She looked back and forth needlessly in the empty home before opening the door and slipping inside. The door clicked softly behind her, and all she could do was breath as she peered into the room of the only true father she had.

Splinter's room remained as he had lived, his flat bed still neat and made on the floor, his candle assortment still inhabiting his bedside table. Even his kimono was where it should have been, spread out neatly on his bed, ready for wear.

The only thing that was missing in Splinter's Japanese-decorated room was Splinter.

A sting went through her, but she ignored it, having bigger things to do at the moment than morn lightly on the passing of the ninja master. She wasted no time. Striding hurriedly into the room, she passed his cot and kimono and went straight to the other side of the room, and to his storage trunk.

When he was alive, Splinter was a very simple rat. But even he had treasures.

With a quick sigh and a small prayer she opened the old box and immediately laid eyes on her prize. Slowly, carefully, she reached into the box to feel the black cloths within.

A little cool, but comfortable.

Cotton.

She smiled. Just as she thought.

With just as much delicacy as she had begun with her slowly lifted the folded clothing from the trunk and closed the lid.

This was all she needed from here. Therefore, with as much reverence as she could conjure, she stood and walked back towards the doorway of the room, careful to leave everything she passed undisturbed. At the door, she turned to gaze at the ninja master's room once more. With a deep sigh she clasped the clothing in her hands, bowing deep with reverence in memory of the beloved ninja master. After a few moments she straightened, peering at the room once more, before leaving just as quietly as she had entered.

This was it.

The next few moments of her life consisted of many things, one of them being a trip the bathroom. That was where she tied her hair back, making sure to get all of the strands so that it wouldn't get into her face. She stripped of her normal clothes, having no need for them anymore. Then, with a reverence beyond her years she unfolded the bundle, lying the pieces out before her in awe at what it all represented.

Starting with the easiest pieces of garment-wear she slipped into the protective arm and hand sleeves and wrapped the black scarf around her neck. It covered her chin and nose only to stop just below her eyes, just as it should. In the next moment a black hood covered her hair and forehead, stopping in sequence just above her eyes.

Both facial adornments tied at her neck.

Peering into the mirror she smiled lightly as she threw the dark cotton jacket on, covering the rest of her torso. It hung loose, but she knew that it wouldn't be so roomy for long. Moving to the trousers, she slipped the large pants up one leg at a time. This was also roomy, mostly to allow movement. Nevertheless, the ensemble was still incomplete. Ties made up the rest of the traditional uniform. Ties at the knees, ankles and then finally, her waist bound the formally loose fitting 'everything' to her body.

However, after slipping on the traditional split-toed tabi she looked into the mirror, her hands at her sides and her eyes narrowed.

It was complete, she was finished.

She was nameless, she was honor-bound.

She was ninja.

Her fist cut sharply through the air around her as she executed three consecutive katas, testing the ninja uniform of its limits. Finding none, she was thoroughly pleased.

Now she could finally join the others.

Bowing quickly into the mirror, Centrice exited the bathroom thoroughly adored in the traditional Shinobi Shozoku.

However, as she ran towards the door she nearly skidded into it as she realized that she was forgetting something…Something _important._

"Weapons!"

Even her voice sounded different, but she paid her definable assertiveness no mind. Instead she rushed quickly to the dojo, attacking the weapons unmercifully. Smoke bombs and shuriken found her concealed pockets by the dozen as well as a number of throwing knives to keep her elements of surprise plentiful.

With that complete, all she had to do now was choose a main weapon…

Initially her first thoughts had been the Bo, but that would have immediately given her away since that was her main weapon in most of her sparring sessions. But that didn't mean that it was her favorite weapon…

She side-stepped the _bo_ staff and _boken_, continuing passed the _sai_ and the _tonfa_, the _nunchaku _and the _katana_ and to the weapons beyond. The weapons here were hardly used, mostly just for show.

But they could be used, and she had been eyeing one for quite some time…

Slowly, she ran her hand over the cool links of the chains that was her quiet obsession for the last few months.

Manrikigusari. The "strength of a thousand men." The ultimate weapon.

And her obsession.

"Oh yeah, come to momma…"

Slowly, she picked up the weighted blunt spikes at each end of the three foot long chain and _felt_ the power.

The power to suppress.

The power to maim.

Even the power to _kill_ if she needed to.

The power to help her friends, her family, her lover…

With a flick of her wrist and a pull of her arm, the weighted chain veered up. Then with a sharp pull the chain back to her only to fall to the ground behind her.

But not before cracking the wooden bo stand behind her in half. She smirked, her eyes narrowing into slits of pleasure. Slowly, she wrapped up the length of the chain and placed the chain whip of sorts into a holder on her belt.

She was now ready.

No longer would she sit safely on the sidelines. Not anymore. She was tired of her boring, uniformed, _accountant _lifestyle. And she was tired of being treated as such, by her family, by her friends and by her _boyfriend._

However, right now, all of that didn't matter.

Because, right now, it was all about to change.

Tightening her fists at her sides, she walked to the door with a new assertion. She would fight with the others, just as she knew she should.

It wasn't as if she didn't know how.

She always held back with the turtles…she _always_ did. Mostly because she feared what she would find when she found her true center. But that didn't mean that she took _ninjitsu_ lightly.

She embraced the teachings with conviction.

Mind, body and spirit.

With all three of those things in synch, one could be unstoppable. She knew, she tried it, and it was true.

But never with the turtles.

She couldn't bring herself to because if she did she knew that things would change between them. If they knew that she had a complete and naturally powerful gift for the arts, they would hammer it into her even more…and she could not allow that to happen.

She enjoyed ninjitsu. She enjoyed the spar sessions, and the life lessons. But she knew that she could not enjoy it if she was being forced into it. So, with no other choice she hid her talents from the turtles. But now, she knew that she did not have that kind of freedom any more.

She was ninja, she was honor bound by code. She must protect her family. At all costs.

Therefore, without sparing it a second glance Centrice left the dojo. She strode with self-assurance through the hallway and into the kitchen, then the den, and finally, to the front door.

This time, she knew she was ready.

She could feel it in her mind, body, and spirit.

She could feel it in all of her being.

The lock on the door beeped with each number she punched in and then clicked as it unlocked, releasing her into the world.

She was ninja. She was honor bound.

She was unstoppable.

Without a sound, she slipped out into the tunnels and began towards her destination, the blueprints as well as the turtle's plans running through her mind. She smirked, feeling the wind of her sprints against her black clad body.

It was time to initiate her_ own _plans for the evening.

---

Ok, well, might as well stop there. We're on the home stretch people! One more chapter and this story is complete. I'm warning you all now. If you have been reading, review, review, review. I'm gonna have a giant 'thank you' session in the end, thanking each and every person that supported me by reading or reviewing throughout this series. I don't want to leave anyone out ;). Seriously though. I am greatly thankful for everyone that has persevered and read through all of this story so far. You guys deserve a metal or something, :) Well, anyways, here I go to the next and last chapter sigh…There will be an epilogue afterwards, but it just won't be the same…WELL R&R! I wanna hear ya! (So I can thank ya laterz! _wink_) See you in the next chapter.


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